


Redemption

by LME



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Arya the Adventurer, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Gendrya - Freeform, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-12
Updated: 2020-02-23
Packaged: 2020-03-01 13:44:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 61,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18801517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LME/pseuds/LME
Summary: Imagining Arya and Gendry's reunion when the Game of Thrones is finally over.  This story is focused on the voyage of 'Arya the Adventurer' on her shipNymeria, after she asks, "What is west of Westeros?".





	1. Redemption

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, onscreen “Game of Thrones’ has been brought to a conclusion, for better or for worse, and Gendrya shippers have been left to sort out their feelings. **I have done a major rewrite of this story to take into account the finale, paying particular attention to Arya’s character arc.** I am trying to accept what I have seen, and write a happy ending. Consider this as my wishful thinking imagining of how it all turns out. I am an older, romantic optimist and like to write fluff, so I hope you like my vision.

The War of Five Kings, the Battle of Winterfell, and the Battle of King’s Landing were all over and the survivors blinked their eyes and observed the new world, hoping to see that life could return to some form of normalcy. The Kingdoms were devastated by the wars, food production was down, The Night King had left the North a frozen wasteland, and King’s Landing was destroyed. Evil Queen Cersei, her lover-brother Jaime were dead, along with Cersei’s ruthless ally, Euron Greyjoy, and her unnatural champion, Robert Strong, killed by his own dying brother, the Hound. King’s Landing and many of its inhabitants had been destroyed by Drogon’s flames and the dragon queen’s madness. Daenerys Targaryen had been killed by Jon Snow Targaryen in order to prevent the future bloodshed she had planned. Her allies, the Dothraki, the Unsullied, and Golden Company had all returned to Essos. Jon had been arrested and his fate was to be decided by the lords who were also going to choose the new ruler of Westeros. When it all settled out, Bran Stark was chosen as king, with the clever Tyrion Lannister as his Hand, Sansa Stark was to be crowned Queen of an independent North, which would have its hands full recovering from the Night King’s devastation. Jon Snow was exiled to the Wall to travel into the wilderness with the wildlings, but that was not really punishment in his eyes.

Newly raised Lord Gendry Baratheon of Storm’s End had been privy to all the proceeding, but cared not a whit for the politics. Lord Gendry was brooding over one thing and one thing only. He had bared his soul and proposed to the love of his life, Lady Arya Stark, the Faceless Man and Killer of the Night King, and not only did she reject him, she wrote him out of her life. She left Winterfell without saying goodbye and could have died in King’s Landing. After it all was over, she completely avoided him during the political discussions, acting as though he did not even exist, and then promptly disappeared, once again without a word of farewell to him. Her siblings said she had boarded a ship and intended to sail into the unknown waters west of Westeros, never to return again. 

It had been three long years since her departure, yet Lord Baratheon still brooded. He had convinced himself that he had loved the girl, and had been sure that she held strong feelings for him, yet apparently she had found it easy to just to push him right out of her mind and life. Gendry brooded and continued to do what he did best, as he tried to deal with his sorrow. He was an excellent blacksmith, and as a craftsman and skilled builder, his services were in great demand as the kingdom was being rebuilt. There was an enormous amount of work to do, and Gendry split his time between King’s Landing and Storm’s End, traveling frequently, and contributing greatly to the reconstruction.

However, Gendry Baratheon was also the Lord of the Stormlands, the master of his Great House, and the son of a king, and held many noble responsibilities. But the bastard born smith had no skills or experience for being a lord, and had envisioned that Arya would be his Lady and help him with his duties. His dreams had been cruelly smashed and he lacked the interest to pursue them. Lord Gendry was a conscientious man, though, and when he was in Storm’s End, reluctantly heard grievances, judged disputes, and gave succor to the pleading needy. When officiating in the Great Hall, he wore a modest black tunic with a golden stag embroidered on it, and had no taste for ostentatious wealth. He let it be known that he considered his lordly responsibilities as a _job,_ and not an opportunity to abuse power. Davos Seaworth, his devoted mentor and guide, was slowly teaching him how to be the leader of his House, and when he had to make decisions for his vassals, he simply used common sense and compassion. The Stormlanders found him strange at first, but were beginning to value their new lord, as he was simply a practical, humble man.

Unlike previous lords, Gendry had no desire to waste coin on lavish feasts, and seldom entertained guests. However, from the beginning of his elevation, Ser Davos gently reminded him that he was required to fete his bannermen, as one by one, every Stormlands Lord and Lady visited with their marriageable daughters. Gendry was awkward and uncomfortable during these meetings, and could not wait for the gatherings to end. Even though she had been gone for three long years, there was room for only one woman in his heart, and he had no interest in the little ladies. Gendry was also well aware of rolling eyes and the distasteful expressions they wore when they thought he was not looking, because the circumstances of his lowly birth were well known, and no highborn lady would voluntarily seek to wed him if he did not hold the seat of power over the Stormlands.

So Gendry Baratheon spent much of his time working in the forges of King’s Landing and Storm’s End, bending metal to his will, creating beautiful and useful objects out of raw iron or steel, and training apprentices to carry on his work. 

But day after day Gendry toiled in the forge, shirtless as usual, completing the tasks put before him, trying to keep his hands and mind occupied. Sometimes his thoughts wandered to the forge at Harrenhal, an awful place, but he could not forget his role there and the sight of the small girl lurking nearby, her expressive grey eyes glued to his bare chest as he worked, and that he could not help but watch her also. _I wonder what she would have done if I had dropped my hammer and impulsively kissed her?_ The smith sighed internally, _she would have slapped me, no doubt!_ But it was a pleasant thought anyway. He buried himself in his work until one day he clearly heard a strong, unmistakably familiar voice demand over his hammering, “What are you doing?”

Gendry Baratheon closed his eyes, took a deep breath, opened them again, and turned to the door. There _she_ was, calmly leaning against the frame, staring at him with those wide grey eyes, arms crossed over her chest. She was wearing clean leathers, but a much lighter outfit than the one he had last seen in the cold North. She looked healthy, although there were a few new scars on her face. She was the same, but a little older and taller, and gods be good, she had more womanly curves than when last her had seen her. Her chestnut hair was longer and braided down her back. He hadn’t seen her arrive, so he had no idea if she had any mobile infirmities.

He stared at her face, this girl who had appeared in his dreams every night. Specifically, he was visited by her singular shy, lowered eyelids expression, the one he proudly knew the bold warrior woman wore only for _him_. Three years at sea had not been kind to her complexion. The sun and wind had dried her skin and drawn thin lines at the corners of her mouth and eyes. But the weather had also turned her pale Northern flesh a healthy tan and added a line of freckles over the bridge of her nose. He was tempted to kiss those endearing freckles.

“Forging door hinges, milady. No one has minded the hardware of this castle for a long time. Why are you here?”

She chose not to admonish him as she usually did for addressing her as ‘milady’, but simply smiled softly, stood upright, and took a graceful step towards him, revealing that her limbs were fine. “Well, I’m sure you are aware that I took ship and sailed west to see the lands beyond the maps. I have seen many lands and met many people and have learned that places and people are much the same all over the world. I began to yearn for friendly, familiar faces, and as luck would have it, my ship brought me to King’s Landing two weeks ago. I saw my brother Bran and he told me you were here. I have never been to Storm’s End, though, and it was not too far away.” She paused, “Bran told me that you never married.”

He caught her eyes, “Aye, these ladies do not appeal to me. I do not want a proper lady.”

Up until this moment, the girl had exuded supreme self-confidence. Suddenly her eyes lowered, her face became as shy as a child’s, and her voice was hesitant, “I never gave you a proper goodbye. Are you pleased to see me, Gendry?”

Gendry took a deep breath, dropped his hammer, and walked to her, gently taking her hands in his own, “I told you once that all I know is that you are beautiful, and that I love you, and none of it would be worth anything unless you were with me. I meant those words. Arya, I was drunk and I stupidly fucked up the rest of it. Every day and night I think about that, and wish I could have done it differently. But know that all I wanted was for you to be with me, simply be with me.”

Arya met his gaze and calmly answered, “And I responded that I am not a lady. I never was. That’s not me.”

“You can be whatever you want!” Gendry exclaimed emotionally, dropping her hands and gesticulating, “I love you the way you are and I do not want to make you into anything different that is not you! I would not nag you to marry me and have my babes! If you want to spar and ride all day, that is fine with me! I would not ask you to wear a gown, unless it has acorns on it.” She could not help but giggle at the memory of Acorn Hall. That was the first time they had really touched each other, and it had been fun. They were both becoming more relaxed. 

He continued, “You wanted to see the world, have adventures. I understand that now. I did not realize that I was offering you a prison sentence. That was wrong. Well, did you meet many interesting people?” And then nervously, “Did you meet any _men?_ ” 

The traveler knew what he was implying, “I met many men. Some viewed me with fear, hatred, or anger. That was easy to deal with. I understand violence better than most people. Many more viewed me with lust and I am used to deflecting that emotion. But some men were insistent and I was forced to kill or maim them when they became too forward.”

“Did you meet any that you liked?”

Now Arya smiled as some memories, “There is a sort of man that is attracted to a woman such as myself. I met several handsome and silver-tongued princes and pirates who flattered me and cleverly attempted to bed me. I even let a few kiss me. But I knew that they only considered me to be a conquest and they were eager to brag that they had fucked the Night King’s killer. I would never let men like that see me naked or stick their cock in me.” 

“So you took no lovers?” It was obvious that Gendry was very interested in her answer. 

With a wicked grin, she replied, “Well, no men as lovers, but I will say no more. On those rare occasions that I felt too lonely, I touched myself and imagined a handsome man with a pair of bright blue eyes and an adoring expression.” She suddenly looked shy again and murmured, “That is one reason that I am here.”

Gendry’s eyes widened and he practically choked. “Well, now I can truly say that I am pleased to see you, milady. I just want you to be here so that we can talk and share meals together,” he continued, “and mayhaps,” he smiled a little, “spend the nights together, too.”

Her eyes were lowered as she reached for and squeezed his hands and murmured, a soft smile on her face, “That might be nice.”

The Hound had planned to kill his brother and did not intend to leave the Red Keep alive. However, he did not want Arya to share his fate. He grabbed her shoulders, looked sharply into her eyes, and gritted out, “Cersei is dead! Go home, girl! Don’t fucking waste your life alone and miserable like I have! Live your life!”

Arya considered her departed friend’s words and caught Gendry’s eyes, repeating, “Aye, that might be nice.” But then her eyes clouded and she appeared troubled, complaining, “But frankly, Gendry, all I got out of our wrestling on those grain sacks before the battle was a lingering pain between my legs. I worried all night that it would interfere with my fighting ability and make me vulnerable. But I learned at the House of Black and White how to suppress pain and ignore it when needed. I _did_ like the feeling of our naked bodies lying together and felt a thrill when my teats brushed your chest, but I still do not see what all the fuss is about.” 

She was still confused about the meaning of their brief tryst, but one memory stood out: When she boldly leaned in to kiss him, he stared at her wide-eyed, and breathed, “Ar’a!” pronouncing her name as if it were a prayer. That was another reason why she returned to him. 

Gendry grinned and leaned closer, daring to brush his lips against her cheek, then leaned back, his bright blue eyes sparkling with mischief, “I do not have much more experience than you do, but mayhaps _together_ we can discover what all the fuss is about, because surely there is an awful lot of it.”

“That does sound interesting,” she whispered, and, ah! there was that shy little smile that made his knees weak and caused him to want to impulsively hug her and kiss that silly little bun on the top of her head when they had been reunited in Winterfell. Arya shifted her mouth closer to his, closing her eyes and preparing to give him a deep kiss, as deep as the one she left him with after breaking his foolish heart so long ago. It was the right thing to do, because all the passion that she had put into _that_ kiss returned immediately and she realized that she belonged _here,_ within the arms that now embraced her, as Gendry moaned with satisfaction and he returned her ardor. They both became lost in their emotions, needing the reassurance that this reunion was meant to be.

Finally, their lips parted, but not their torsos. Arya ran her hand over the fine black hairs covering his bare chest, and Gendry stroked her back with his strong hands, but not even attempting to cup her sweet bottom. That would come later. Gendry took a deep breath, and suggested, “Well, now that you are here, would you like to take a tour of the castle? I would love to show you my home, milady!”

Leaning back and appearing relaxed and comfortable, Arya smirked, “Aye! That sounds like a good idea! Tell me, are there any feisty old tomcats?!” 

“I am not sure,” he replied with a puzzled expression, breaking their embrace but taking her hand and entwining their fingers warmly, “but I think we can find out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you like my fantasy.


	2. Consummation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dedicated to ‘thesecretrebelgirl’ her recent Gendrya video set to “Making love out of nothing at all” on YouTube inspired me to write this fic.
> 
>  
> 
> I continue with my speculations of how Gendrya should play out. Warning: This fic is solid fluff.

They explored the castle, but did not see any cats, or at least any cats that made an impression on Arya. He took her high up on the battlements where she saw the breathtaking view of Shipbreaker Bay opening up underneath her, feeling the breeze in her hair, gazing at the whitecaps glinting on the water, and the fishing boats with their colorful sails, heeled over in response to the wind. She had loved sailing but now was content to stay in one place and drink this sight in forever.

They supped by themselves in the kitchen, sitting on opposite sides of a work table, occasionally holding hands and entwining their fingers as they quietly conversed, the younger scullions wide-eyed at the sight of the lovers. They fussed about and whispered amongst themselves with hands over their smiling mouths. 

Cook herself, a life-long retainer of Storm’s End, gazed fondly and curiously at the pair. When the solemn young lord had arrived, he displayed none of the joy that one would expect from a man who had been a bastard from King’s Landing and abruptly raised to nobility as the lord of one of the Great Houses of the Kingdom. He had entered the castle with a small entourage, Ser Davos Seaworth and a handful of men at arms. The stories soon came from the soldiers. When the youth was legitimized by the queen, he immediately went and proposed marriage to the woman of his dreams and she rejected him forthwith. Their young lord had come to Storm’s End broken and despondent, only working in the forge, the life he knew best, to assuage the bitterness in his heart. She had despaired for the sensitive young man for three years now. 

Cook was bewildered by what she heard. She had known both King Robert and Lord Renly when they were attractive youngsters, and this young man was impossibly handsome, putting his two relatives to shame. Besides, Robert never demonstrated the honesty and intelligence of this lad, nor Renly his sincerity and seriousness. How could any Lady in her right mind turn him down? What could she possible have wanted?

Looking at the young woman, assuming she was the lady in question, sitting opposite the obviously enraptured youth, she now understood. The girl appeared to have about twenty namedays, but seemed to possess the intelligence, independence, self-confidence, and carriage of a natural leader of men. She was dressed in a fighting man’s leathers, was slim and strong, and had two well-used blades in her belt; obviously she was the survivor of several close-fought battles. The most astonishing thing was that, although her grooming was not very ladylike either, as she wore no make-up and tied her long chestnut hair in a simple braid, she was beautiful. Cook imagined that cleaned up in an attractive gown, the girl would command the attention of every man in the kingdom, and high lords would be begging for her hand in marriage.

It made sense that only such a woman could reject her new, humble lord. But now she had come to Storm’s End on her own volition, and by the shy glances they exchanged, it appeared they were coming to a mutual agreement. The young woman’s demeanor indicated an internal ferocity, but at times her lord’s soft words and adoring gaze caused an expression of vulnerability very much like that of an innocent maiden to appear on her pretty face. It was very sweet. Cook could not help but imagine another generation of Baratheons in the castle. Gazing at the couple, she speculated, what fine children they would be, with such impressive parents.

A very excited scullion approached Cook and whispered in her ear, “Mistress Marra! She is no ordinary lady! Nae, she is ‘Arya the Adventurer', Lady Arya Stark of Winterfell, Princess of the North, the slayer of the Night King, and the savior of the world!”

Cook gave a start as this made everything clear. The news of Arya Stark’s accomplishments had swiftly traveled throughout the land and she had become a national hero. Certain young girls were now insisting that they be allowed to study swordplay too. Lady Stark, however, eschewed the attention and withdrew from public life. To think that her lord was associated with such a formidable woman was amazing!

And it also was revealed that his proposal was not the result of an upjumped lowborn seeking an alliance with a noble lass well above his station for political purposes. Nae, the pair had met years earlier as children, fleeing certain death at the hands of the evil Lannisters. They had suffered many horrors together, helping each other survive until they were forcibly separated for several years before they were reunited at Winterfell, both preparing to fight the White Walkers. Having survived that battle, and being legitimized, young Gendry was confident that the girl he loved would want to join her life to his. He was shocked and disappointed when she indicated that marriage was not in her plans. And her unannounced intentions were to sail into the unknown, possibly never to return. Yet return she did, and here she was now and it seemed that she had changed her mind about marriage. 

Cook had served the Baratheons her whole life, and learning that the lady was a Stark revealed another important connection. Robert Baratheon was betrothed to Lady Lyanna Stark, who had been kidnapped and raped by Prince Rhaegar Targaryen. The prince had fallen for her beauty and spirit, and an enraged Robert started Robert’s Rebellion, during which Rhaegar, Lyanna, and tens of thousands of soldiers died. Robert never recovered from Lyanna’s fate and it was well known that his marriage to Cersei Lannister was not a happy one. Looking at the young woman sitting opposite her lord, Cook surmised that she possessed the same spirit and beauty of her aunt. She shook her head at how history was repeating itself; here was another Baratheon man in love with a Stark maiden. She hoped that this situation would be more fortunate. 

After supping and exploring more of the castle, Gendry took Arya back into the Drum Tower and showed her the elaborate chambers that had prepared for her, but she frowned and shook her head, insisting, “Nae, I plan to reside in the Lord’s Chambers with you.” 

Gendry initially looked pleased, but then appeared concerned, fussing, “Arya, that would not be proper!”

Almost snarling, Arya retorted, “I have killed the Night King and saved the fucking world, so no one can tell _me_ what to do!” When she cooled off, she suggested a practical solution, “Have Ser Davos announce that we have secretly been betrothed for years and there will be no complaints!”

That evening, the couple nervously retired to their bedchamber, greatly desiring to make love, and hoping for a better experience than they had shared that first time in Winterfell. They had both been eager to couple that last evening before facing certain death from the Night King, and when Arya had asked him to make love to her, they fell into each other’s arms and shared several passionate kisses, whilst rapidly tearing each other’s clothes off, assuming that they were ready. Arya had pushed Gendry down on a pile of grain sacks, wriggled out of her breeches, and stood naked and proud over his prone body. The young smith gazed with admiration at her beautiful frame. She was delightfully curvaceous for a thin girl, and her breasts were larger than he expected because they had always been tightly bound under her tunic. He also had a glimpse of her cute little arse that he had always admired clothed in tight breeches. However, he was distressed by the awful knife scars on her midsection, but she would say nothing about it. He felt a hunger as he stared at the triangle of brown curls at the juncture of her impossibly long, toned, and strong legs, and she smirked at him as she lowered herself over his groin, shaking her hair back, and leaning in for another passionate kiss. 

Hovering above him, Arya attempted to consummate their relationship, and that was when everything went wrong. Unfortunately, his manhood was too large and she was only barely damp and very tight. With a frustrated growl, she rolled them over, spread her legs apart, and demanded that Gendry penetrate her. He did his best, but he could see that he was hurting her as he forced himself inside, for she was squirming uncomfortably, her eyes were squeezed shut, and she was biting her lower lip so hard that she had drawn blood. Gendry tried to be as gentle as possible, but she kept insisting that he push hard and by the time he was completely embedded, she was writhing in pain. Arya ordered him to move in and out, but that did not lessen her discomfort, and even though he had been unable to bring her any pleasure, he was eventually forced to withdraw and spill his seed on her belly He was appalled by the amount of maiden’s blood that coated his cock and dripped from her thighs into the grain sack underneath her bottom. She had bled copiously and was now staring listlessly at the ceiling.

Apologetically, Gendry rose and fetched a somewhat clean cloth and bowl of water and gently wiped his seed and her maiden’s blood from himself, and her sex and thighs. He felt too humiliated to suggest that they have another go and her eyes were distant and not focused on him. Neither spoke another word as Gendry covered them both in a thin blanket, and Arya turned her face to the wall with a worried expression. He hoped she was more concerned with the battle to follow rather than his performance. After dressing the next morning, Arya noticed her maiden’s blood staining the grain sack and grimly wondered if anyone would be curious about it. Then they silently left to meet their fate.

So this time, in their own bedroom, they undressed each other slowly and shared lots of deep kisses, and when they fell into the featherbed, they spent time stroking and fondling each other, learning the secrets of their bodies. Gendry caressed her lovely breasts, marveling that the pair was the warmest, softest, smoothest appendages he had ever held. He worshipped them with his mouth, sucking on each entire breast, and nipping the pert, pointed, hard little teats with his teeth and Arya began to writhe and moan underneath him. 

Arya had begun to stroke his cock, and as he was becoming quite aroused, he hoped that they both would have better luck this time. He slid his hand over her smooth belly, and as he covered her mound she sighed and guided his fingers inside her cunny. Gendry was surprised that she was hot and quite wet and slippery, and two fingers easily slipped inside. Arya moaned, “Gendry, move your fingers! There! Like that!”

He stroked her folds and she thrust her hips against his hand again and again, pleading, “Faster! Faster!” He complied and soon she thrust once more, releasing a flood of warm wetness over his hand, and falling back on the bed with a long sigh. Looking up into Gendry’s face she smiled, “Well! That was nice!”

Gendry leaned down and kissed her lightly, “I am glad to have pleased milady.”

She smirked and slapped his arm gently, “Do not call me ‘milady’!” and he only laughed. Realizing that the cock in her hand was rock hard, she moved it close to her channel and said, “Gendry, I think I am ready!” The tip of his manhood was at her entrance and he thrust gently, astonished because he easily slipped inside and burrowed deeply immediately without any resistance. 

Arya moaned with obvious pleasure and ordered, “Use more force! Pound me!” He obeyed and soon the room was filled with the sounds of the bed squeaking, wet flesh slapping rhythmically, and their moans of pleasure. Soon, Arya’s center was throbbing violently against his groin, and she began to shout, “Oh! Gendry! Oh! Oh!” then gasped and fell back, breathing heavily and obviously satiated. Gendry felt his climax coming and made to withdraw to spill his seed on her belly, but her strong legs were tightly wrapped around his pelvis and held him tightly, rotating her passage around his cock. He groaned and immediately climaxed, filling her womb with his warm seed. 

Now Gendry withdrew and rolled to her side. They made eye contact and impulsively rubbed noses. Arya giggled, “Now I understand what all the fuss is about!” She stroked the hair on his chest and sighed, “That was much better and I can see repeating that performance often.”

The next morning they woke up comfortably cuddling together, and Arya grinned, “I think I will stay for a while and see how compatible we are.” “A while” quickly turned into four weeks as they enjoyed each other’s company, riding, sparring, exploring the land, working in the forge, sharing meals, and spending glorious, passion-filled nights together. Between lovemaking sessions, Arya quietly explained what she had been doing in Braavos and how she earned her awful scars on her torso. They were becoming a close couple.

One evening as they were about to go to sleep, Arya spoke seriously, “Gendry, do you know anything about the Baratheons?” She sat up in the bed, amused that his gaze followed the shaking of her breasts.

He shook his head, “Not much.”

“Well, when I was with my father in the Red Keep, he showed me this huge book of Westeros’ Great Houses and a note left for him by the late Hand, Lord Arryn, who died mysteriously. The note read, “The seed is strong.” My father thought there was some connection. The book said that _all_ Baratheon offspring were large, had black hair and blue eyes.”

Gendry’s eyes widened, “”But the Princes Joffrey and Tommen and Princess Myrcella all had blonde hair!”

“Aye,” Arya nodded, “Jaime was their father, not Robert,” and Gendry gasped, “But that is another story,” she continued, “The phrase also means that Baratheons are potent. Your father sired eighteen known bastards.”

She paused again, and Gendry wondered, _why is she telling me this?_

Staring at him intently and grasping his hand, Arya confessed, “Gendry, my moon blood has not arrived on schedule. I suspect that when you spilled your seed the night I arrived, you gave me a babe.”

Gendry immediately rose up and hugged her, asking, “Arya, are you pleased?”

Her voice muffled against his chest, she replied, “I am not sure yet, but I know one thing; no child of mine is going to be born a bastard. I have seen what that has done to you and Jon, and I would not wish that on anyone I love.”

Gendry had a hopeful expression, “So you would agree to marry me?”

Arya sighed, “I came to the conclusion even before I arrived that I would eventually agree to marry you if you welcomed me back. I am getting used to the idea. However, this babe will cause us to wed in haste. I regret that Stannis burnt down the Godswood here, as I desire to take my vows before a weirwood tree.”

Gendry picked her up and spun her around, and she squealed as he shouted with glee, “We will find a weirwood tree! There must be one around here!” He kissed her again in his happiness. 

Arya sighed internally as she watched Gendry bursting with joy at the thought of their potential babe. She had always had a negative impression of childbearing. When she had seven namedays, she had observed her lady mother carrying her youngest brother Rickon. Lady Catelyn was bloated, clumsy, uncomfortable, and always surly. The young tomboy decided early in her life that she would not bear any babes. However, her favorite playmates were her two older brothers, Robb and Jon, and Theon Greyjoy, and when she became too obnoxious, which happened often, the boys would tease her, saying that the fate of _all_ girls was to bear babes for their husbands. Theon even japed that he would put a babe into her if she didn’t behave, to the annoyance of Robb, who would punch his best friend in the shoulder. Jon Snow, being a bastard, dared not to accost the squid prince, even if he was also affronted by Theon's words to his favorite sister. She hated being teased like that.

Now she thought, _I might as well make the best of it._ She _did_ love Gendry and had decided to see if they could live as a couple. Apparently, her womb had already made the decision about actual marriage for her. Facing Gendry with a bright smile, “Well, I came for a visit, but apparently there is more to the story. Seeing how happy you are gives me joy, too. Sandor Clegane ordered me to live, so let us do right by him.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thank the old gods for fan fiction.
> 
> Fan fiction writers thrive on caffeine and comments.


	3. Family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dedicated to the recent Gendrya video by ‘Blue Sky’ set to “Gendry: Hands of Gold” on YouTube that makes me miserable every time I view it. It is that good.
> 
> It is hard to believe that my emotional state is so connected to the whims of a pair of TV writers. Sunday night they trashed the dreams of thousands of online Gendrya shippers. At least we have fan fiction to develop our own world.
> 
> More fluffy Gendrya musings.

Previously:

Staring at him intently and grasping his hand, Arya confessed, “Gendry, my moon blood has not arrived on schedule. I suspect that when you spilled your seed the night I arrived, you gave me a babe.”

Gendry immediately rose up and hugged her, asking, “Arya, are you pleased?”

Her voice muffled against her chest, she replied, “I am not sure yet, but I know one thing; no child of mine is going to be born a bastard. I have seen what that has done to you and Jon, and I would not wish that on anyone I love.”

Gendry had a hopeful expression, “So you would agree to marry me?”

Arya sighed, “I came to the conclusion even before I arrived that I would eventually agree to marry you if you welcomed me back. I am getting used to the idea. However, this babe will cause us to wed in haste. I regret that Stannis burnt down the Godswood here, as I desire to take my vows before a weirwood tree.”

Gendry picked her up and spun her around, and she squealed as he shouted with glee, “We will find a weirwood tree! There must be one around here!” He kissed her again in his happiness. 

\----------------------------

Ser Davos Seaworth was a very busy man, setting Storm’s End to right, dealing with the demanding vassals of House Baratheon, and instructing his reluctant young lord in the ways of leading a Kingdom. If left to his own devices, young Gendry would remain in the smithy, working at the anvil, the life he knew and loved best of all. However, the arrival of the mysterious Stark girl had changed his demeanor, and he had become more willing to take up his appointed role. And to his astonishment, after a month the couple announced that they planned to wed, and Ser Davos was given the task of finding a weirwood tree, which was absolutely required by the Northern lass for the ceremony.

Davos actually was pleased, for disappearing into the Kingswood with his son Steffon, was a welcome relief from the constant yammering of discontented noblemen at court. He knew that some of the lords had prepared to put their daughters before the new leader of the Stormlands and were less than pleased with the arrival of ‘the wolf bitch’, as they labeled her between themselves. Davos thought they were less than charitable since Lady Arya had killed the Night King and saved their worthless arses.

Within a week he met an old woodcutter who pointed him to an immense and solitary weirwood tree, isolated deep in the forest, and slightly more than a one day’s ride from Storm’s End. The old man had said that he didn’t worship the Red God, who was too violent, nor the Seven, which was too complicated, but respected the old gods and their trees, because they chose to stay out of a man’s way. 

Ser Davos brought the news to Lord Baratheon, and he and the maiden found the necessary cloaks, and set out for the tree. No one dared suggest that the lady bring a gown for the ceremony, for it was well-known by now that she _only_ wore leathers. The next day they kneeled before it, exchanged their vows, with only Ser Davos, Steffon, and the woodcutter, for witnesses, and the new bride was cloaked with the symbol of her husband’s House. The ceremony was surprisingly brief, the couple touched lips perfunctorily, and ended with the lass calmly stating, “Let’s go home.”

When they arrived back at Storm’s End the next afternoon, a general celebratory feast was avoided and the small party went to the kitchen for an intimate gathering. However, spirits were high, and the Arbor Gold flowed. Lord Gendry even insisted that Mistress Marra sit down and sup and drink with them. Arya had seen how fondly the Cook had gazed at her lord and was well aware that she approved of the couple. 

Tongues became loosened after several goblets of the heady wine, and Cook boldly ventured that the recently reunited couple obviously had no desire for a big public wedding nor to wait very long to wed.

“Nae,” Arya replied, draining her goblet and motioning for a refill, “I hate large public gatherings, and I am sure someone would have made a stink about my attire and I would have felt compelled to gut the arsehole! As for our haste, that was another matter.”

Mistress Marra looked interested and said, “Please go on, milady.”

Arya rolled her eyes at the title but continued, “Who would have thought that my luck was so bad that the first time this bull would fuck me in this castle, he would put a babe in my belly! I have no desire to birth a bastard, so I was forced to marry him immediately!”

Cook’s jaw dropped, as the wolf girl continued with a baleful glare at a blushing Gendry and a smirk, “Sometimes I think that he did it on purpose, because he got the result he wanted.”

Knowing that 'Arya the Adventurer' had traveled widely, Mistress Marra could not help but blurt out, “Was that your first time, Lady Arya?!”

“Nae!” Arya replied vehemently, “The first time was long ago when I attacked him in Winterfell and I did not even enjoy the experience! All I got was pain and blood!” Gendry could not speak and only continued to blush.

With sympathy, Cook patted Arya’s hand and said, “I am so sorry, milady.”

But now the pretty she-wolf flashed an enormous smile and replied, “Not to worry. Lord Baratheon has improved his technique and has been able to provide me with _much_ pleasure since I have arrived.”

The young kitchen scullions had been raptly listening to the entire conversation with wide eyes and constant giggles, and Cook said, “Milady, I value your frankness, but aren’t you concerned about speaking so openly?”

Arya grinned and slurred her words as she turned and stared directly at a gaggle of kitchen maids, “It makes no matter. No one can keep any secrets from these little birds anyway!” The maids giggled some more and fled from her sight. 

\----------------------------

After imbibing more drink that eating food, the newlyweds retired to their chamber, secure now that no one could call them out for improper behavior. They were far too inebriated to celebrate the wedding with a bedding, but simply passed out half-clothed in each other’s arms. Arya lay on her stomach snoring loudly, and Gendry’s mind wandered to pleasant memories before he submitted to the realm of sleep. The young lord was now supremely satisfied, having a name, a title, and more than anything, the woman of his dreams. He had always admired her strength, intelligence, independence, and seriousness, and greatly respected that she was a superior person, but it thrilled him that he had the ability to draw a shy, girlish smile from her with a few soft words.

Their reunion at Winterfell had been proof of this. She had entered the forge, proud, austere, unemotional, and demanding, but he simply said, “As you wish, milady,” and she lowered her fluttering eyelids and smiled with such sweet innocence that he could have kissed her on the spot. 

It had been the same earlier when they were traveling with the Brotherhood. Hot Pie had presented ‘Arry’ with a parting gift, a loaf of bread in the shape of a direwolf. She accepted it and immediately smiled and raised her eyes to catch Gendry’s, desiring that he also share in the rare happy moment between friends. 

And when she had shown uncharacteristic vulnerability with her plea of “I could be your family,” he had rejected her when he should have wrapped her in his arms and kissed her, declaring that they would never be parted, Lord Beric’s disapproval be damned!

But the gods had been cruel at the time, although fate was on their side. If they had not been forced to separate, he never would have had the opportunity to return to smithing and learn how to fashion dragonglass weapons which were so important for fighting the Night King’s army. And if she had not gone to Braavos, she would not have acquired the skills necessary for killing the Night King himself. Now they were together again, and he hoped that it would be forever. The passionate kisses they had shared in Winterfell had overwhelmed him and he could not imagine a life without her. _Although I could do without the snoring,_ he reflected before falling asleep.

\----------------------------

Arya had insisted that she had no desire to be Lady of the castle and take on a lady’s typical duties, but she did start accompanying Gendry to the Great Hall to hear grievances most mornings. Davos always advised him, especially in matters that had been totally out of his experience, but Arya had been raised on her lord father’s lap, and was no stranger to these proceeding. The wolf girl was sharp and perceptive, and inserted her opinions often. Even though certain misogynist lords scowled when she spoke, her comments were usually thoughtful and practical and indicated a great deal of common sense. Gendry was grateful for her presence and the members of court began to realize that the youngsters considered themselves a team, dedicated to improving the lives of their vassals.

One morning a very bold and foolish lord loudly declared that no woman was the equal to any man, and a woman’s words should not carry any weight in the chamber. Arya coolly stared at the lord with an impassive expression. However, Gendry spoke up, “My lord, I dare you to say those words directly to my wife.”

Now the lord turned his gaze on Arya and noted that she had a soldier’s attire, a soldier’s weapons, a soldier’s fearless gaze, and a soldier’s scars. She half-smiled and began to finger the pommel of her sword, and now her expression read, _go on, just try me!_ The lord lost his nerve, and with a quavering voice, he said, “I humbly beg your pardon, my lady. I have spoken out of turn.” All she did was nod in response and remove her hand from her weapon.

Now Gendry spoke up, “That was a very smart thing to do, my lord. She could have gutted you before you had moved an inch. I have rarely challenged her myself, and when I have, I have usually regretted it.” Now speaking to the court as a whole, “I contend that women are the equal to men here, and I ask you to honestly consider, does not your own mother or wife always give you good council?” He stood up to make his next words more meaningful, “This chamber will consider all subjects as equals, and if any woman of the Stormlands believes that any man in her family has not done right by her, she may appeal to this court for justice.” He nodded to the maester recording the proceedings, “Please make that a directive of our rule.” He looked at Arya and she smiled and nodded.

\----------------------------

As she had earlier planned, Arya spent much time in the training yard, sparring with the men at arms and keeping her skills sharp. No matter how large or fast they were, few fighters could best her, and the few who could eke out a draw, earned a smile and a few words of praise, “Well done!” The soldiers were most pleased if they got that much from the imperious warrior woman, and envied Lord Baratheon.

Before long, amongst the children running and playing in the castle courtyard and village commons, the little girls in smocks were joined by small numbers of girls with dirty faces, messy braids, boy’s breeches, and wooden swords in their belts. These girls boldly proclaimed that they intended to become warriors like Lady Arya, and the amused she-wolf would teach them the rudiments of swordplay when they followed her to the training yard. Oddly enough, this slowly became accepted behavior in Storm’s End and Arya was very pleased.

\----------------------------

Arya had sent a raven to her sister Sansa in Winterfell announcing her marriage to Gendry, and soon afterwards a package arrived for her. It contained an empty grain sack with a small, butterfly-shaped bloodstain. The note read, “I know you are the sentimental type and thought you would appreciate this keepsake of your bedding.”

As she inspected the item, she thought, _so my sister does have a sense of humor after all._

\----------------------------

One morning Arya was sequestered with her assigned handmaiden and arrived late for breaking her fast. Gendry noticed that the tunic she wore was excessively loose, her breeches had been let out, and she was moving a bit awkwardly. He gave her a quizzical look, and she scowled in response, “You have put a babe in my belly, and now I am fat, clumsy, and ugly! I hate you!”

Gendry stared back at his wife, “”How can you say that?! You are carrying my child! You are my goddess and the most beautiful woman in the world! Come here!” He got up and gifted her with a big kiss in front of the court and Ser Davos started the applause. 

Several months later a small girl child was born, bearing her father’s unruly black hair which would fall into her eyes when she grew older, and stormy grey eyes like her mother. Lyarra, named for her maternal grandmother, entered the world protesting loudly, and proved to be moody and demanding, similar to her mother as a babe. Regardless, the proud parents could not have been happier, and the fond kitchen staff was the first in the castle to toast the addition to House Baratheon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since Sunday night I have watched YouTube videos, read reviews, and contemplated the finale. I am despondent that the writers chose to separate Arya and Gendry, but the more I think about it, I have to reluctantly agree that Arya’s character arc has played out as it should. Even as a child she had a sense of adventure and a firm belief that she would not follow the normal route of marriage and children. As she grew up it was obvious that she was very different and developed unusual fighting skills for a specific purpose. In her final scene on shipboard, Maisie’s expression of purpose and contentment reveals that this is where Arya should be. It is difficult to deal with, but I can see her seeking her fate alone.
> 
> My problem is with poor Gendry. He has effectively been cast aside like a useless old shoe. Arya does not talk to him when she leaves Winterfell or when they are both in King’s Landing in the finale. She leaves Westeros forever without at least a tearful farewell. We had every impression that Arya had at least _some_ feelings for him, but he is left to stew in his own juices and reflect that even after all they had shared, she considered him to be a minor, almost meaningless part of her life. I hurt for Gendry.
> 
> Unfortunately, Gendry is partly to blame for his problem. His proposal was actually directed at the vulnerable, younger Arya of the “I could be your family” scene, and the grown-up, powerful, self-confident Arya of Season 8 is a totally different person. There was really no hope for them as a couple and I hurt for the OTP we have imagined. I don’t know where to go with this but write more fan fiction, including this one. Thank you for being there.


	4. Newlyweds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have embraced the concept of ‘Arya the Adventurer’ and will have her recount her voyages as she lies in bed with Gendry after ‘fooling around’. But first, ghosts of the past must be put to rest.

Previously: 

After imbibing more drink that eating food, the newlyweds retired to their chamber, secure now that no one could call them out for improper behavior. They were far too inebriated to celebrate the wedding with a bedding, but simply passed out half-clothed in each other’s arms. Arya lay on her stomach snoring loudly, and Gendry’s mind wandered to pleasant memories before he submitted to the realm of sleep. .… They were together again, and he hoped that it would be forever. The passionate kisses they had shared in Winterfell had overwhelmed him and he could not imagine a life without his she-wolf. _Although I could do without the snoring,_ he reflected before falling asleep.

\-------------------

As dawn began to break, Gendry was dimly aware that a hand was slowly stroking his cock which began to respond to the stimulation, soon standing up proud and firm. Without a word or movement he reached over a warm torso to discover a delightfully wet and inviting cunny. He gently rolled on top of his wife, silently penetrated her, and began to slowly pulsate inside of her passage. Arya spread her legs to allow him to burrow deeper and eventually wrapped her thighs loosely around his waist, her heels resting on his solid arse. Both newlyweds emitted the most muffled of moans as they shared a ‘half-asleep fuck’, deliciously slow and quiet. They brought themselves to an extended, unhurried climax, after which they finally opened their eyes, smiled at each other, cheerily exchanged, “Good morning!” and shared a chaste kiss. Gendry rolled off of his bride and pulled her in for a cuddle, whilst her hand began to stroke the fine black hairs of his chest. Gendry noticed how the sheets beneath them, as well his cock and her thighs were soaked with their lovemaking juices and he could not imagine a finer way to wake up in the morning.

Arya’s mind was already working, and she began to interrogate her new husband. “I meant to ask this earlier, but I became distracted. You said in Winterfell that you had only bedded three women before me. Did you _fuck_ anyone whilst I was gone?”

Gendry leaned back so he could look into her face and replied with the most serious expression he could muster, “Since that night, I have never desired any other woman besides you.”

Arya smiled wickedly, “Good, then there are no women I will have to kill. My Needle will stay clean.” Her smile instantly disappeared and her expression became dark, “I will not share you with anyone! I am the jealous type!” 

Gendry was almost a little afraid of her ferocity, but he was used to her fiery nature. He kissed her on the forehead, mumbling, “Do not be concerned, I held your memory closely while you were away, and now I have you here. There is no other woman for me.”

Light was coming in the window, and Gendry saw that, as a jape, Arya had nailed the bloodstained grain sack to the wall opposite the bed. He queried, “You don’t mind that the maids will see that?”

Arya laughed, “I will take it down later, but I thought it would make them laugh.”

After a pause, she ventured, “Did you see my ship before I set sail?”

He looked at her sharply, “Nae, I left King's Landing as soon as I could!” Her question seemed to break the dam holding back his emotions, and he gushed, “Seven hells, Arya! There you were, looking so strong and stern, fearless and severe in your leathers, the ‘dawn bringer’, threatening Yara Greyjoy, getting the respect and fear you deserved. But all I saw was the most beautiful woman in the world, the one I had loved for years, the one to whom I had opened my _heart,_ the passionate woman who had lay naked, moaning, and writhing in my arms, the one who could disarm me with a glance, and I believed that I could do the same to her, the one who kissed me like our tomorrows would always be shared! And then you acted like I didn’t even _exist!_ I could not take it! It was like at the Peach so long ago when I said, “I’m too bloody lowborn to be kin to m’lady high!” You cast me aside because I was not good enough, and I was _humiliated_ and miserable! I _had_ to get away and I sulked in the forge at Storm’s End for years! The lords of the Stormlands were angry because I refused to take a wife, but how could I when _your_ proud face was always in my mind?”

Arya found it hard to look at him and kept her eyes lowered as she spoke quietly and haltingly, “I _had_ to avoid you, Gendry. Aye, it was deliberate! I looked at you out of the corner of my eye. You looked good at the council, proud and upright, like a _real_ lord. I wanted you to be successful, to find the proper lady and rule Storm’s End as you were meant to do. I did not want you to be pining for me.” 

She paused and took a deep breath, “I _had_ to be steel, I _had_ to avoid you, for one little farewell kiss and I might have said, ‘Gendry, let’s find a room,’ and after a few days of that, I might agree to see Storm’s End, and mayhaps never leave it. I _had_ to leave. I had to do it for _myself._ I could not let myself get distracted. You were a distraction, a sweet distraction. It did hurt, please believe me.” A tear ran down her cheek, as she continued to explain her actions. “It was important that I appear independent and haughty. If you had come to me to kiss my hand and I followed my heart and fell into your arms, every smug lord there would have thought, ‘see there, even the dawn bringer requires a man to complete her life. All women are weak and need a man’s protection and support.’ I had to prove that a woman was capable of being in charge of her own life. Even though there was an emptiness in my heart too, I sucked it up and did it for myself and _all_ women!” 

Gendry wrapped her in his strong arms and kissed the tear away. “You always _were_ steel,” he murmured, “castle-forged steel like that little Needle you wore at your belt. I saw it right away. Tough and stubborn. Fearless. Your skin was too smooth, your tunic did not lie flat on your chest. I was suspicious from the first and studied you as we marched. No facial hair, downright pretty, your hands were feminine as well as your voice, and early on I found myself watching your cute arse. My instincts told me that either you were a girl or I needed to change my sexual orientation. Later it was obvious that you were hiding breasts. I grew fond of you and there was no way I would hurt you. I wanted to protect you, even though it was obvious that you needed little protection.”

Arya wiped her eyes, “We are here now, and mayhaps we can heal those hurts from long ago. The fact that you waited and that I returned shows that we can do so.” She kissed his cheek and returned the hug. They both sighed and relaxed. 

“Well, anyway, about my ship. Good old Ser Davos was invaluable for helping me get ready for my voyage. It is ironic that at that same time he was helping you become lord of Storm’s End. We both owe him something.” 

Gendry smiled shyly, “Mayhaps name our first son after him?” 

Arya rolled her eyes and sighed, “Our first son must be Eddard, our second Jon, our third Davos? How _many_ fucking babes do you want to put into me?!” 

Gendry grabbed her and buried his face between her breasts, speaking in a muffled voice, “As many as humanly possible! I want us to make love often and we have to make up for lost time!”

“Getting back to my ship,” Arya would not be distracted. “Ser Davos found a stout, sturdy old cargo ship, built to travel long distances. She was a seventy foot long carrack, with two masts set with square sails, and required a crew of fifty men to operate her. Naturally I named her _Nymeria_ and had a direwolf figurehead carved for the bow, which looks magnificent! I also had the direwolf sigil painted on the sails. Ser Davos found me a reliable captain and navigator too; an old friend of his, Salladhor Saan, a retired smuggler. He had much coin, but was becoming restless in his inactivity. When Ser Davos suggested that Salladhor assist the ‘dawn bringer’ in an unusual quest, one in which he might not return, he was intrigued and said, 'Why not?'” 

“Ser Davos also assembled my crew; all experienced sailors, middle-aged and married to the sea, with no families to leave behind, or overly lusty natures. You know my standard outfit. I dress severely to appear as a beardless lad, and I didn’t want any crew members to consider me as an object of desire or I would have to introduce them to ‘Cat’s Paw’ or toss them directly overboard. The sailors were traditional and I got used to them calling me ‘milady’. Actually, they were quite kindly to me, and considered my youthfulness, rather than my gender, as important. They eagerly taught me the art of sailing, setting the sails to the wind, celestial navigation, and how a ship functions. In return, I taught those who were interested the water dance and developed a few sparring partners. Sailors love knife-throwing competitions, and to my surprise, I would occasionally lose some gold in a contests, but I usually won more than I lost.”

“When the ship was fully provisioned, we set sail northeast from King’s Landing and out of Blackwater Bay, then entered the Narrow Sea and turned south at Massey’s Hook. We did not set foot ashore until we reached Sunspear in Dorne. I am much relieved that I did not suffer seasickness. If I did, my voyage would by necessity have been curtailed much too soon. Gendry, you would not believe how hot it is in Dorne! The sunlight was so bright I had to cover my eyes with my hand. The air is so warm and muggy that I immediately began to sweat profusely in my leathers. I noticed that both sexes in Sunspear dealt with the heat by wearing loose and light silk robes. I was so uncomfortable that I quickly found a market and purchased robes for my visit. Here, I will show you!” Arya jumped out of bed, Gendry smiling at her swinging breasts, and ran to one of her sea chests and pulled out a beautiful orange-red silk robe, donning it to cover her nakedness. She twirled and said, “What do you think?” 

“I like you naked anyway, but you do look beautiful in this,” he replied, fingering the smooth, delicate material. Arya returned to the bed and snuggled against him in the robe, “Aye, this is nice. I wouldn’t mind if you wore this often,” Gendry nuzzled her throat, “even if a man were to wear this, the robe is distinctly feminine and I like the way you look in it.”

“I stayed in Sunspear for a few days and met Prince Doran Martell, who had been curious to meet me after hearing the tales of my exploits. He laughed and said that he meant no disrespect, but observed that, as I appeared to be a sweet, pretty, and innocent maiden of eight and ten namedays, it was hard to believe that I was a trained assassin and had killed the Lord and vassals of House Frey and the Night King. However, his perceptive daughter Arianne and his Sand Snake niece Lady Nym looked hard at me and said that they certainly saw the killer in me.”

“I spent much time with the Martells trading war stories and felt very comfortable with Princess Arianne and Lady Nym, as they were women warriors and we had much in common. I seldom have anything in common with typical Westerosi women north of Dorne and I surmised that I could be happy living in Sunspear, except for the gods-awful heat! I spoke at length about the wars for Winterfell and King’s Landing, and they were not upset that my brother Jon slew Queen Daenerys. They were convinced that the dragon queen had purposely burned Arianne’s brother, Prince Quentyn, to death, and did not believe that it had been an accident. The Martells were related by marriage to the Targaryens, but had little love for Daenerys or her mad brother.”

“From Sunspear, we sailed along the southern coast of Dorne to the busy port of Oldtown, where victuals and wine for the voyage could be purchased at reasonable rates. Captain Saan was well aware that the greedy merchants of Lannisport were known to overcharge needy travelers. Whilst in Oldtown, I visited the Citadel, the school for maesters. It is a very interesting institution, but I got into an argument with a maester during the tour and had to leave before I opened up his throat. You see, the Citadel only educates men, and some maesters were bold and stupid enough to declare that women are too inferior a gender to be considered as the equal to men. I was about to demonstrate how wrong that attitude was when Captain Saan had the wisdom to call me away. Later when I had cooled off, I realized that shedding blood there would not have left a good impression.”

Gendry laughed and shook his head, “I would have loved to see your face when you were that furious. They would have been frightened if they had any sense!”

“With our hold filled with supplies for a voyage of undetermined length, I wanted to see Lannisport and Casterly Rock before turning westward forever, so we sailed north from Oldtown along the western coastline until we reached Lannisport. I rented a horse and rode to Casterly Rock to see the famous lions. They just looked like hungry cats to me, but the males are larger and have huge eyes. One stared defiantly at me and I realized that if there had been no iron bars between us, nothing would have prevented him from quickly making me his dinner. I do not think that my training would even have helped me. As I left Casterly Rock I heard one thing that pleased me. Apparently the famous Lannister gold mines are failing and soon that evil family will not have a fresh source of money. I would not lose any sleep if the whole lot becomes beggars!”

Now Arya shifted out of Gendry’s arms and reached for a goblet of water, watching her husband intently for his reaction to her next story. “It was in Lannisport that a pirate prince almost seduced me,” she calmly related and Gendry sat up straight in bed, on high alert.

“ _What_ did you say?” he was very curious and a bit worried.

“As we were preparing to leave Lannisport on the morning tide, a man calling himself Prince Armando Loraq, begged permission to come aboard, saying that he would be honored to meet Arya Stark, the light bringer, about whom he had heard so many tales. Captain Saan recognized him and told me that he belonged to a well-known noble family in Meereen, and had earned large amounts of money by seizing merchant ships out of Slaver’s Bay, ruthlessly ambushing them in the open ocean. Armando Loraq was very handsome, smooth-shaven, with oiled long black hair extending down his back and bound with gold wire, and bejeweled with golden necklaces and earrings. The captain’s cabin on _Nymeria_ is expansive and beautiful, with large windows across the stern, and I was proud to show it off. We sat on the soft cushions on the bench beneath the windows, and we drank Arbor Gold as I recounted the tale of the Battle of Winterfell, as he had said he wanted to hear an actual participant describe it. Eventually Captain Saan begged off as he had to get back to work and I was alone with the smiling pirate, who slid closer to me on the bench.”

Gendry shifted uneasily on the bed. He did not like the sound of this.

“Look, Gendry,” Arya sighed, “we were going to sail on the morrow into the Sunset Sea to parts unknown and I had been thinking about the reality of never seeing my family again, and I was becoming nostalgic and sentimental, so when he reached behind my back and deftly loosened my bun, releasing my hair, which he started to stroke whilst murmuring into my ear, ‘surely a bold, passionate, and lovely woman such as yourself must get lonely, my lady. I can bring you much pleasure, sweetling,’ I didn’t flinch when he kissed my neck. Then he brought his arm around to stroke my arm and he brushed the side of my breast as he did so, and I could feel my teats harden, even through the bindings.” 

She stopped and glared at her husband who looked decidedly uncomfortable, as though he wanted to leave the room. “What?! Do not look at me like that! You wanted to hear everything, right?! I’m just being honest! Stupid bull, I had been desperate for _your_ touch all this time!” 

“All right! All right!” Gendry raised his hands in acquiescence, “Go on!”

“Prince Armando moved to embrace me,” the adventurer continued, “and placed his lips on mine. I was relaxed from the wine and was about to let him invade my mouth and fondle my body when I noticed that his eyes were cold and calculating, devoid of affection. My blood froze and I realized that I was just a conquest to him, that he was the sort of man who would go into the nearest tavern and boast that he had seduced the hero of Westeros. I backed off, saying, ‘That is enough!’ but he tensed and gripped me harder, sneering, ‘Nae, wench, it is too late to decline! I _will_ have what I desire!’ The next thing he knew, ‘Cat’s Paw’ was at his throat, its razor sharp edge already drawing blood, and I warned him that he better stop if he wanted to see the morning sun. Armando pushed me away, shouting, ‘you are just a cold bitch! A cock tease! Wolf slut, I wager that you have teeth between your legs and not a cunt!’ I kicked him firmly in the privates, and when he doubled over in pain, I called for two crewmen to toss him into the harbor. He cursed me as he swam to his dingy, but I never heard from him again.”

Gendry sighed and embraced his agitated wife, stroking her hair, attempting to calm her down as she continued, her head on his chest. “After that, I became much more wary when I met any other ‘admirers’, of which there were quite a few. As much as I tried to appear masculine, there were men who saw the disguise and felt tempted to break through my armor.” Arya caught his gaze, “Gendry, you know how I knew that it was all wrong? I had become used to the worshipful gaze you always directed at me after our reunion at Winterfell. I felt flattered and beautiful and loved and girly when you looked at me and I was beginning to really like that feeling. So when a man gazed at me as if I were nothing but a tasty sweetmeat to be savored and forgotten, my guard instantly went up.”

Gendry kissed her gently, wanting to once again reassure her of his love. Arya became composed again and briskly continued her story. “So the next morning, we set the sails and left on the tide into the Sunset Sea, determined to go to the edge of the world.” She captured his gaze and asked, “Gendry, did you know that I was not the first woman to sail west into the unknown?”

“ _Really?_ ” he replied with surprise, “Who was she? When did she travel?”

“I think it is time to break our fast,” the adventurer smirked mischievously, “That is a story for another day.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next: Arya continues to relate her adventures to her curious husband.
> 
> Fan fiction writers thrive on coffee and comments.


	5. Land Ho!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ‘Arya the Adventurer’ continues to relate her journey to her curious husband.

Previously: 

Gendry kissed her gently, wanting to once again reassure her of his love. Arya became composed again and briskly continued her story. “So the next morning, we set the sails and left on the tide into the Sunset Sea, determined to go to the edge of the world.” She captured his gaze and asked, “Gendry, did you know that I was not the first woman to sail west into the unknown?”

“Really?” he replied with surprise, “Who was she?”

“I think it is time to break our fast,” the adventurer smirked mischievously, “That is a story for another day.” 

\-------------------

The following evening, after dinner and another delightful bout of lovemaking, Gendry cuddled his new wife in his arms as they leaned back against the headboard of their bed. Gendry had altered the carving from one of a stag to both a stag and a wolf. Becoming comfortable, Arya looked up into his face and asked rhetorically, “What’s west of Westeros?”

“Huh?” a puzzled Gendry replied, “the Sunset Sea, of course.”

“Ah, but what is beyond the Sunset Sea?” Arya queried again, “I had a friend in Braavos who suggested that it was the edge of the world. I thought I would like to see that and it was always on my mind.”

“The edge of the world….” Gendry repeated with a faraway gaze, considering that outlandish idea.

“But I wasn’t the first woman to have curiosity about exploring unknown territory. I heard an interesting story. Two hundred and fifty years ago, Elissa Farman of Faircastle on Fair Isle in the Westerlands, a vassal of the Lannisters, grew up staring at the Sunset Sea from her home and wondering about the same question. Her life changed when Princess Rhaena Targaryen married her brother Androw and became her close friend. Some believed that Rhaena actually had more love for Elissa than Androw. Eventually, Rhaena, Androw, and Elissa moved to Dragonstone, where Elissa became bored. The restless girl had dreams of adventure, rather than simply being the companion to a royal, sitting in a solar day after day, gossiping, entertaining visiting ladies, and stitching endless embroidery on the isolated island. When Rhaena refused to support her request to travel, Elissa stole three dragon eggs (possibly the same ones later gifted to Daenerys Targaryen), ran away, and sold them in Braavos. She used the profits to build three rugged ships, designed to cover long distances, and sailed around Westeros to the Sunset Sea.” 

“After a month of voyaging beyond the sight of Westeros, she discovered three islands and named them Aegon, Visenya, and Rhaenys, after the first Targaryens who conquered Westeros. One ship became damaged, one was lost in a storm, and Elissa’s ship, _Sun Chaser,_ continued sailing to the west beyond the charts. This was known because one sailor from the damaged ship returned to Oldtown. Elissa sailed on and was never to be seen again or heard from again. A later adventurer sailed east to Asshai, the sorcerers’ city on the eastern edge of Essos. He swore that he saw a ship that could only have been the _Sun Chaser._ ”

“That is quite a story,” Gendry commented, and Arya replied, “Aye, and I wanted to travel in Elissa’s wake. Who knows what I would have discovered?” 

\-------------------

Taking a sip of water first, Arya began her tale, “From Lannisport, we intended to sail due west, however, the wind and currents consistently carried _Nymeria_ southwestward. We reached Elissa’s three islands after a month, and saw that they were uninhabited, but had plenty of animal and plant life. It was a good place to reprovision food and water.”

“We continued to sail southwest out of the islands, and now we truly were off the charts of the known world, as I had intended. The climate began to become increasingly warmer on our tack. I was finally where I had wanted to be and now had to seriously consider that I might be responsible for my death and the death of my crew, but I was also amused by the idea of falling off the edge of the world. As I sat in my cabin, pondering my charts and tapping my fingers on the table, I reflected that I had seen the endless curvature of the gleaming waves extending in front of the ship, and I had begun to believe that there was no edge; my world was actually a globe.” 

“My musings meant nothing to the fact that, after several months we had not seen any land and provisions were beginning to dwindle to alarmingly low amounts. A typical seaman’s rations, salt pork and hardtack biscuits, will keep a person alive, but not in good health. The sailors’ enemy is scurvy, which weakens the bones and teeth, causes wounds to heal slowly, and saps the energy. It is due to the absence of fresh fruits and vegetables, rare items when at sea for too long. We were able to stave off scurvy with a good supply of concentrated lime juice. We were also fortunate enough to pass through a rainstorm, and fashioned sailcloth funnels to capture rain and refill our dry water barrels.” 

“The climate was warmer than I was used to, but with constant sea breezes, it was not as uncomfortable as Dorne. We finally came across a group of islands I would consider to be tropical, as winter or autumn were never experienced in these parts. Approaching these islands was risky for a ship the size of _Nymeria,_ as they were surrounded by unusual living rock formations called coral reefs, where the pounding waves could destroy the hull of a ship that carelessly came too close. However, there were passages through some of the reefs wide enough for _Nymeria,_ and we soon found ourselves in a calm, protected lagoon. Captain Saan shouted for the first mate to drop the anchor, and we all breathed a sigh of relief.” 

“These islands _were_ inhabited, and the natives were a pleasant and generous people, and once we had figured out how to communicate, eager to furnish us with fresh foodstuffs in exchange for iron axes, knives, and nails. They were brown-skinned and handsome, with straight, glossy black hair, and the men were beardless.” 

“The waters surrounding the islands were bountiful with finfish and shellfish, and the trees provided breadfruit and coconuts, delicious fare that we had never experienced. The islanders were clever sailors with small outrigger canoes, some with sails, some propelled merely with paddles. I had the thrilling opportunity to be rowed into a hidden cave in the side of a sea cliff. The cave was thirty feet deep and sunlight barely penetrated to the end, and two feet below the keel of the boat, the rocks were covered with strange and colorful clinging animals. I have never seen such an unusual place!” 

“The center of the islands were mountainous and covered with dense forests, filled with the squawks of brightly-colored birds called parrots, and the chattering of little mammals called monkeys, which I believe, are also native to Sothoryos. Gendry, I had never seen such tall trees, a hundred feet or more! All the leaves were in the top branches and the canopy was so dense that you could not see the sky. Vines hung from every tree, making the forest even denser. Only a little sunlight filtered through the canopy and it was dim at the forest floor. Plants that normally grew out of the ground were seen growing way up in the air on limbs of the trees and the earth was bare or covered in moss. Everything was wet and the islanders told me that it rained over the forest every day.” 

“I was fascinated by the water surrounding the islands as it was pale blue and so clear that I could see right down fifty feet to the white sand of the bottom. The oceans around Westeros and even the water in my pond at Winterfell were muddy with very limited visibility. The islanders took me diving on one of the coral reefs that was only twenty feet below the surface. I saw a multitude of colorful fishes darting between the coral heads, and sea stars, sea urchins, shrimp, crabs, and snails crawling over the rocks. The islanders pointed out that the rocks themselves were covered with what looked like little flowers, and later they explained that they were actually animals and the petals were ‘tentacles’ that poisoned small swimming animals that they captured for food.”

“Part of my Braavosi training involved learning how to calmly remain submerged for up to three minutes, so I was prepared to dive with the locals. They looked upon me with admiration for being able to stay underwater with them. There was no way I could swim in my leathers, so I fashioned an outfit out of one of my Dornish silk robes. When I returned to the ship, some of my sailors were looking at me sideways in a strange manner and I realized that the wet silk clung to my figure and also revealed much of my bare legs. I was exceedingly embarrassed as I had never exposed so much of my actual shape or skin to my crew, and I did not want them to dwell on it. Captain Saan just smiled and japed that the cat was out of the bag, and the men were now aware that milady was really an extremely lovely lass. I just muttered that I hoped that knowledge would never become an issue, and I was pleased that it did not. Ser Davos had chosen the men very carefully and I was now grateful for that fact.” 

“We stayed among the islanders for several weeks to refit the ship and to regain our health. They were most accommodating and many friendships were formed. The women were beautiful and friendly, and some of my crew found it impossible to resist their charms. I’m sure some hearts were broken when we left. I was aware of the king’s sons eyeing me, but as their own ladies were far more beautiful and dressed in a more revealing fashion, neither prince moved to accost me, to my relief. Captain Saan found the situation very amusing, teasing me as the ‘forever ice princess’.”

\-------------------

“After leaving the tropical islands, we found ourselves alone at sea for several months, and once again, if we had not taken on as many supplies as we could hold, we would all have died. As the number of casks of fresh water declined alarmingly, and food was being carefully rationed, we finally saw land in the distance. We learned that it was the continent of Americos, and if we made it home safely, we would be the first Westerosi to speak about it. The inhabitants were curious, as our ship was an unusual design to their eyes, and they welcomed us and gave us fresh water as well as food.” 

“After landing, I took a closer look at the region I had viewed from offshore, a hillside covered in bright green vegetation rising from the coastline. I saw cultivated rows of large bushes, arranged in parcels, attended by many families of smallfolk. The villagers called themselves a ‘cooperative’, as the entire group raises only one crop: small brown beans harvested from the bushes, called ‘caffe’. Caffe beans were roasted, ground into a fine powder, and brewed into a liquid like tea. It was the favorite hot drink of the region.”

Arya halted and turned to Gendry, “Remember, I prepared some caffe for you a few weeks ago?” 

Gendry returned a distasteful expression, “You mean that brown liquid that looked and tasted like mud?”

“Nae, it does not taste like mud! I like it! I drank it all the time whilst in Americos.”

“Whatever, it is bitter and nasty.” 

“You just have to get used to the flavor.”

“Ugh! _You_ can get used to the flavor. _I’ll_ stick with wine and ale.” 

“You are no fun!” she pouted.

“Drinking mud is not my idea of fun.”

“But you did like that other foodstuff I brought back from Americos, right?”

“You mean the cocoalate? Aye, that was delicious! I could eat it all the time. I wish you had brought home more of it.”

“Um, I intended to, but unfortunately much of it was consumed on the voyage. Cocoalate is hard to resist.”

\-------------------

“We hauled _Nymeria_ into dry dock in the port city of Malin on the southern coast of Americos because she had developed a persistent leak in the hull that Captain Saan and his carpenters were determined to find and seal. The captain said I could use my shore leave to explore the countryside, pointing out that a large river with a mouth a mile wide emptied into the ocean at Malin and passenger boats were constantly ferrying folks between Malin and the interior of the land. I decided to take a trip inland and Captain Saan insisted that two grizzled old seamen, Renwick and Hargrove, accompany me, as it was not safe for me to travel into an unknown land alone. Both men treated me as a favorite daughter and I enjoyed their company. I was pleased to have Renwick with me because he seemed to have a knack for languages and always was the first in my crew to communicate with all the new peoples we met.”

“We traveled on a ferry for five days and reached a village that was a center for trade. I walked through the marketplace and had never seen such a variety of fruits and vegetables in my life! I doubt that even the Reach has as many varieties of produce. Various meats were being cooked on small braziers in the market and I had a veritable feast whilst inspecting all the crafts and goods. Captain Saan had cautioned me not to drink any local water, but to stick to wine, ale, or brewed caffe or tea, or I would certain develop an embarrassing stomach ailment.”

“The village bordered the most enticing landscape I have ever seen, and I can’t wait to tell you about it!” Arya leaned over to reach for her silk robe, and as she did so, Gendry’s eyes once again followed her swinging breasts and he attempted to catch a teat with his lips. She was well aware by now that her husband seemed to be mesmerized by her breasts, and if they were close to his eyes or mouth, she was not even sure if he was listening to her. The she-wolf started to wear her silks in bed to keep his attention during storytelling time. She knew that she was not nearly as voluptuous as most of the women she met in the castle, in fact, she considered her bosom to be modest in comparison. But that did not seem to matter a whit to Gendry, who appeared to view her breasts as gifts from the gods and worshipped them as such. Arya thought that Gendry probably counted her breasts as two of the three most important things she had brought to their marriage.

Settling herself against his huge torso on the bed, Arya started again, “Gendry, you know how much I love riding, and if I had gotten my wish and had never been dragged to King’s Landing with Sansa for the purpose of getting both of us betrothed and married, I would have spent the rest of my life happily galloping around the hills and moors of the North.” Gendry’s eyes had gotten wide and appeared troubled at the thought of the little girl he first met as they fled the city together so long ago, offered as a potential bride to some crafty lord. He had not been in love with her at that point, of course, but the thought of a lecherous man pawing her innocent young form still made him ill. He shook his head to clear it of that unwanted image.

“Beyond the village was an extensive grassland that I was told went on and on for hundreds of miles,” the adventurer continued, “and I learned that it was divided into vast ‘rancheros’, which were the homes for very large herds of the local aurochs, the favored meat of the entire country. The aurochs were tended by ‘gochos’, adventurous young men that stayed outdoors all year round, living in the saddle, so to speak, riding their horses constantly over the endless and flat grasslands. I quickly acquired mounts for my men and myself, and found a band of friendly ‘gochos’ willing to allow a group of ‘turistas’ to tag along. I felt sorry for Renwick and Hargrove, for as you can imagine, they were not at home in the saddle, and their arses hurt every night for the first week of riding.” The wolf princess smiled happily at her husband, “For the first time since I was a child, I could ride as fast and as far as I wanted, galloping whenever I could, jumping over gullies, and practicing my horsemanship. I felt like I had died and gone to the Seven Heavens.”

Gendry smiled encouragingly at his wife, pleased to see her eyes shining with delight.

“The ‘gochos’ were highly amused by my behavior and entertained me with horse races. I rode hard and proved that I was as skilled in the saddle as any of them and earned their respect. I felt comfortable with their lifestyle. They took pride in their independence and desired few possessions, owning only a horse, a long knife, and the clothes on their back, which included a wide-brimmed hat for protection from the sun, and a ‘poncho’, or cloak that served as their bedroll also. Aye, I was happy amongst them.”

“They called me ‘Leenda’, and Renwick told me that meant ‘pretty girl’. Although my leathers were necessarily of a lighter sort in that climate and my hair was now bound in a tight braid, I still felt that I did not exhibit any feminine qualities, and asked Renwick why they used that term. The weathered old seaman actually blushed and replied, ‘milady, when you sit in the saddle in your tight breeches, your arse is very definitely a woman’s.’ From then on I was aware of their eyes following my bum. Just like you, stupid bull!” she scowled and punched her husband solidly in the arm, but he only smiled in return. From that time so long ago that she had angrily shouted at him, “Do _not_ call me milady!” he had _always_ admired her cute little arse in breeches and was not even conscious of automatically watching it. Her arse wasn’t as little any more, but was still a glorious sight to behold.

“We rode with the ‘gochos’ for weeks and weeks, herding the aurochs, locating straying calves, sleeping under the stars, cooking steaks every night over the campfire, drinking ‘yerba mate’, which had the same effect as caffe, and singing songs. I taught them ‘The Bear and the Maiden Fair’ and they taught me some dirty songs, too. One night under the full moon, I let a young ‘gocho’ about my age put his arm around my shoulder. He had long black hair, flashing blue eyes, and a three-days growth of beard, and I closed my eyes and pictured your face as he moved in to kiss me and we tangled tongues for a while. It was really nice until he squeezed my breast, placed a hand high on my thigh, licked my earlobe, and whispered, ‘quiere amor, leenda!’ I didn’t need Renwick to translate his words, but pushed him away whilst hissing, ‘bastante!’ (enough!). I mean, even if I _did_ want to fuck him, which I _didn’t,_ we had no privacy, and there was no way I would let a man stick his cock in me in full view of the entire camp! The very idea!” Arya was fuming at the thought.

“You certainly have a way with words, sweetling,” replied Gendry awkwardly and unnerved.

But the she-wolf smirked, “Actually, it was good that I pushed him away when I did, because I think Renwick and Hargrove were about to disembowel him with their dirks for disrespecting me so. They knew that I had invited the boy’s kiss and were not comfortable about that, but as soon as his hands started to wander over my body, they jumped into action. My own dear brothers could not have been more overprotective or angry.”

“Or your husband!” Gendry muttered darkly, “If I had been there, the boy would not have lived to see another day!”

Arya inspected Gendry wickedly, “Aye, you are certainly the jealous type. I remember the dark looks you used to cast at Ned Dayne because he was so solicitous with me when we were with the Brotherhood.” Ned Dayne was a squire and highborn and thought that it was natural for him to court Arya, overlooking that she was barely more than a child and did very little to welcome his attention. However, after being taunted through most of her brief life by her mean sister that she was ‘Arya horseface’ and no man would want her, she was particularly pleased with Squire Dayne’s obvious affection, Anguy the archer’s roving eyes and lewd smirk, and Gendry’s smoldering jealousy over the actions of the other boys.

Her attention was drawn to Gendry now. He was glowering, for he was still furious, “That damned stuck-up Ned Dayne, with his purple eyes and blonde hair, kissing your hand, and ‘my lady, this,’ and ‘my lady, that’. He was too pretty for his own good! I wanted to punch him in his face! And that Anguy too! I saw him almost put his hand on your arse once!” 

Arya stroked her angry husband’s arm and kissed his cheek, seeking to mollify him, “You would never have known it at the time, but I loved how jealous you were about Ned and Anguy. I thought it was cute and it negated all the nasty things Sansa had said to me about how no boy could possibly like me. I would never have admitted it, but all three of you made me feel as girly as I wanted. Life sucked so much at that time that the attention was one bright spot among all the horror.” 

Gendry stared at his precious wife and embraced her, “I was really crazy then. I wanted you and knew that I could not have you, and yet I did not want any other boy to have a chance to be in your life either. I had no idea what I should do. It was all so confusing.”

“Well, look on the bright side,” Arya replied, kissing his cheek again, “Those days are long gone, and we have survived all that shite, and have each other. Let us not dwell on the troubled past, but enjoy the present.” 

“Well, getting back to my story, the ‘gochos’ also took us hunting. The prey was a strange bird called a rhea. Imagine a five foot tall turkey with really long legs. They ran fast over the grasslands and the ‘gochos’ hunted them with a signature weapon called a ‘bola’, composed of three leather strips, three to eight feet long, each attached to a metal ring on one end, and with a heavy wooden weight on the other. You would hold onto one of the weights and swing the whole thing in circles over your head, then letting it go where it would entangle the legs of the bird and take it down. ‘Gochos’ also used it to capture runaway aurochs and horses, too. Once I twirled mine and it bounced off a bush and entangled my own horse’s legs. Down she went, and I landed in a heap on the ground. The ‘gochos’ laughed hysterically. They had rarely seen anyone catch themselves with a bola. The cute young ‘gocho’ came over and picked me up and planted a kiss on my face while laughing, ‘leenda torpe!' meaning that I was pretty but clumsy.”

Arya sighed, “We traveled with the ‘gochos’ for a month and finally Renwick suggested that the ship was probably repaired by now, so I reluctantly agreed to return to Malin. The band took us back to the village on the river, and we exchanged fond farewells. The cute young ‘gocho’ who reminded me of you got tearful, and thinking that Renwick was my father, approached him and pleaded, ‘quiero casar elle!’ glancing hopefully at me. Renwick barked out a laugh and shook his head, and I quickly jumped into the ferry, thinking, _you’re not the first!_ ”

“As we sailed downriver, Renwick grinned at me and said, ‘Milady, you realize that Captain Saan is going to hear all about this trip?’”

“I just groaned and replied, ‘Wonderful. I will have more reasons to be embarrassed.’”

\-------------------

Now Arya paused and took a sip of water and cast a sideways glance at her husband. Gendry became nervous as he had learned that that behavior usually indicated she was about to surprise him with an unexpected confession.

“It was in the harbor at Malin that I met Lanna Otherys, a female privateer, who would become my close friend, mentor, and um, lover.”

“What?!” Gendry exclaimed as he jumped up in bed in shock, “I cannot wait to hear this!” although he appeared very discomfited by her words.

“Patience, that is a story for tomorrow night.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I am corrupting real words to appear original in my story.
> 
> The bola incident actually happened to Charles Darwin in Argentina. Now there was a real adventurer! 
> 
> Fan fiction writers thrive on coffee and comments.


	6. Lanna

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Arya continues to relate her adventures to her curious husband.

Previously: 

Now Arya paused and took a sip of water and cast a sideways glance at her husband. Gendry became nervous as he had learned that that behavior usually indicated she was about to surprise him with an unexpected confession.

“It was in the harbor at Malin that I met Lanna Otherys, a female privateer, who would become my close friend, mentor, and um, lover.”

“What?!” Gendry exclaimed as he jumped up in bed in shock, “I cannot wait to hear this!” although he appeared very discomfited by her words.

“Patience, that is a story for tomorrow night.”

\-------------------

“The evening after we returned to _Nymeria,_ I had dinner with Captain Saan and saw him frequently glancing at me out of the corner of his eye and grinning. Finally I put down my fork and huffed, ‘What?!’”

“He smirked and replied, ‘Milady, Renwick told me that you were so taken with riding over those grasslands that you were about to marry an aurochs herder and share his bedroll.’”

“I snorted, ‘Listen, Captain, I like to tangle tongues with a handsome young man as much as any girl, but I have no desire to marry and live out on the plains.’”

“Now Captain Saan’s expression became sly and he responded suggestively, ‘Ah, so you _do_ enjoy kissing a boy, especially one with blue eyes and black hair, don’t you, princess?’”

“I appeared surprised and retorted, ‘What are you talking about?! And don’t call me princess!’”

“His face was a bit sad now as he quietly said, ’Ser Davos mentors both of you, lass, and he told me a bit of your history.’”

“I bit my lip and tried not to let on that I felt emotional at his words, ‘I told that boy that he should move on, and I expect that he did.’”

“Captain Saan stared at me in disbelief, ‘You expected him to forget about you, milady?’”

“‘Aye,’ I hesitantly replied, ‘it would have been best for him to marry a proper lady.’”

“He shook his head, ‘I have known you for a year now, girl, and would not believe that a boy who loved you could forget you. I never told you, but the last message that I received from Ser Davos, which reached me when we were in Oldtown, said that he was still holed up in his forge, brooding over you.’” 

Gendry interrupted, “Aye, that was the truth. You were always on my mind.”

“Well, my heart gave a leap, but wanting the captain to just shut up about it, I only said, ‘he probably _has_ moved on by now as he has no choice anyway if he is to be a lord, so that is that. Please do not speak of him again, Captain.’”

“He nodded in agreement. I could see that he did not want to drop the matter, but he did obey me.” 

Arya clutched her husband, “Gendry, I thought about you _all_ the time, too. But it was painful and I did not need to be reminded by Captain Saan. I had enough on my mind and had to concentrate on being a leader.”

Gendry kissed the top of her head, “If you did not return to me, I don’t what I would have done. The pressure to marry was so great that I might have just slipped away and become a nondescript village blacksmith somewhere.”

His wife looked guilty and replied, “I am sorry now that I made you suffer so, but I would never have believed that you would have waited for so long.”

He stared intently at her, “You inspired that much love in me to wait. Mayhaps I was still thinking of that little girl under the Hollow Hill who said, ‘I could be your family.’ Mayhaps I should just have grabbed you and kissed you so deeply that we never would have thought about parting.”

That thought made Arya’s eyes twinkle and she grinned, “We were so young at that time that Lord Beric would have punished you like a naughty schoolboy for kissing me, and when he sold you to the Red Woman, I would have been forced to kill her.”

Now Gendry laughed, “And we would have run away and lived like those outlaws in that ‘Wenda the White Fawn’ story you told me about.” 

Arya stroked his chest, “Well, we survived all that and are together now and can kiss as much as we want.”

“Aye, and I want to kiss you now,” Gendry replied in a husky voice, and started to kiss her mouth, her throat, her shoulders, her breasts, and shifted to initiate another bout of sweet loving making, letting her storytelling lapse for a while. Arya had no complaints and welcomed him into her cunny with a sigh, pressing closely against him to savor his passion, returning his patient devotion. 

\-------------------

After their impromptu congress, a bath, and some wine, Arya continued her story: 

“When _Nymeria_ was sufficiently repaired, we set out again to explore the long southern coastline of Americos, backtracking a bit to survey the eastern coast also, the area we had not seen on our approach to the continent. I was intrigued by a city of beautiful tall and slender white towers, and when we landed, we learned that the port was called ‘Levant’. Captain Saan and Renwick accompanied me, and leaving the ship and entering the city proper, we were astounded to see that most of the population consisted of children with as few as six namedays to young adults close to my age. Renwick was invaluable in speaking to the locals, who told us that the city was the center for learning for the region, and gifted children were gathered there to study the arts and sciences, medicine, history, and military matters. The children were divided between a number of institutes, each specializing on one field of education. It reminded me of the Citadel, but with one marked difference: Almost half of the students in each school were female, except for the military college, which consisted of fifteen percent girls.” 

“We soon met the leaders of Levant and a few of the institutes, for they had observed _Nymeria_ pulling into the harbor, and realizing that the ship appeared unusual to their eyes, were curious to meet the mariners. They were amazed when we admitted that we had approached from the east, and were natives of a large continent that only existed in their myths. As you can imagine, they peppered Captain Saan and me with questions, inviting us to a dining hall to fete us and pick our minds. I felt guilty for not paying much attention to Maester Luwin when I was a child in Winterfell, for I was woefully ignorant about the geography and history of Westeros. Of course, from the time I fled King’s Landing to the present, I had had little time for book learning.”

“I did my best to represent my country, and Captain Saan, a native of the Free Cities, told them about his home and the Narrow Sea. When I admitted that the Citadel of Oldtown steadfastly refused to educate women, insisting that they were incapable of intellectual matters, the Levantis looked at me as though I had two heads and wondered aloud how an entire people could be so be so shortsighted. I told them that one of the reasons that I had undertaken my voyage was because I felt out of place in Westeros, being a woman who insisted on living like a man. Later I visited the military institute and was persuaded to demonstrate the Braavosi water dance, as the swordsmen there were greatly intrigued by its unique style. They flattered me by extending an invitation to remain for a while as a guest instructor, but I was becoming impatient to return to sea, and said I would consider their kind offer in the future.”

“We stayed in Levant for several days exchanging knowledge with the ‘dons’, as the learned lecturers were called, and observed that they stood out among the population in their black robes and small hats called ‘tams’. I noted that the ‘dons’ were favored with the same respect as noble persons, high government officials, or military leaders. The people in Americos seemed to highly value education.” 

“We set out to sea again on a westward tack, with Malin as our destination. We were familiar with that port now, and knew that it was our best place to resupply. As we noticed previously, many ships were plying the waters around Americos, and many changed their direction to get a closer look at _Nymeria,_ which was a totally different design than the local watercraft. Many of these curious ships were narrower and longer than _Nymeria,_ and carried two raked, or tilted, masts rising from the deck, each carrying a lateen sail, which was triangular in shape, and arranged fore to aft, rather than shaped like a square and arranged perpendicular to a line drawn from bow to stern.”

“Captain Saan said that the ships were fitted with a full keel also and were designed for generating speed, and compared them to the brigantines of Westeros. I observed the ships and their crews with my spyglass and did not have a favorable opinion of them. Most of the ships were filthy and poorly maintained from what I could see, and the sailors seemed like a hard lot; dirty, scarred, sneering, and evil-looking.”

“The captain also gazed at their decks and commented, ‘I’ll wager a month’s pay that they are pirates.’”

“Four days out of Levant, Captain Saan pointed out a ship that seemed to be following us. It was obviously faster and chose its position relative to _Nymeria_ carefully. I observed that it carried black canvas and had a skull painted on the mainsail. The ship kept itself at a good distance by day, but slowly approached closer by night. I distributed short swords, doubled the night watch, and cautioned the men to be on their guard. However, two nights later in the hour of the wolf, I was roused from my berth by a frightened shriek, ‘Oye! We are taken! To arms! To arms!’” 

“Grabbing my weapons, I rushed up the companionway to find two score of invaders fighting my men. Secretly, the pirates had slowly approached in longboats with muffled oars by the light of the third quarter moon. I assessed the situation and saw that two of my sailors were already down and bleeding on the deck. A pirate wearing much gold jewelry spotted me, raised his sword and shouted, ‘There she is! There is our prize! Seize her! Seize her!’ I was immediately surrounded by a half a dozen wickedly grinning pirates who leered at me and gold earring sneered, ‘Surrender now, lass, and we won’t kill you after we fuck you!’”

“I snarled, ‘fuck _you,_ arsehole!’ and bounced forward, spearing one pirate in the eye with Needle and slashing open a throat with Cat’s Paw. Shocked by my aggressiveness, they hesitated for a second too long, and spinning, twisting, and parrying, I had two more writhing in pain on the deck, one with a punctured knee and the other with a ruined groin. Gold earring managed to cut my cheek before I put Needle into his heart, and I thought, _Seven hells! Don’t I have enough scars on my face?!_ as I sliced the sword from the last pirate’s hand and kicked him over the railing into the sea.”

“My sailors were holding their own and I raced around assisting in individual battles until it was obvious the tide had turned in our favor. I called for Hargrove and together we heaved the dead and dying pirates overboard to feed the hungry sea tigers circling the ship. A wounded pirate pleaded, ‘Mercy!’ and I snarled, ‘Not today!’ skewering his throat with Needle and tossing him into the drink. When the last of the pirates were disposed of and it was evident the attack was over, I ordered a sailor to throw sand on the deck to absorb all the spilled blood.”

“Breathing heavily from exertion, I called to Captain Saan, ‘Captain, the butcher’s bill, if you please!’”

“Thankfully, he did not seem to have any wounds, and replied, ‘four dead and many minor wounds, including that cut on your face, milady. You should have it tended to.’”

“I was inspecting the deck and replied tersely, ‘Not now, there is much to do.’”

“I saw my four dead crewmen, laid out peacefully now, and became enraged. I had been entrusted with their lives and had failed them. Seeing _Skull_ standing off at a distance, the blood lust was upon me and I shouted at Captain Saan, ‘Captain! Make sail and let us go kill those bastards! Our dead shipmates must be avenged!’”

“Captain Saan shook his head sadly, ‘Nae, milady, that will not work. They have already captured the wind and are much faster than we are. I have calculated that the pirates can gain a league on _Nymeria_ every eight hours. We cannot catch them. I am sorry.’”

“I slowed my breathing, thinking, _calm as still water,_ and realized that the uninjured men standing near me were gazing at me in awe. My bun had come loose, I was holding two blades dripping blood on the deck, and my leathers were also soaked with blood. I looked at Hargrove curiously, and he spoke for the crew. ‘Milady, we had heard stories of your prowess with steel, but have never seen you in action until today. Wolf princess, you were magnificent! I believe that you could have slain all the pirates by yourself if you had no allies.’ A few sailors who worshipped the Seven, dropped to their knees and recited, ‘You are the Warrior goddess!’”

“I was uncomfortable with all the attention, but merely sneered, ‘Those pirates had no real training in swordsmanship and were barely a challenge for me. I take no pride in killing vermin!’” 

“‘Nevertheless, milady,’ Hargrove continued as the other mariners nodded in agreement, ‘we have never seen such a display of fighting skill. We will fear no enemy with you as our leader.’”

“’I thank you for your praise, Hargrove. I wish I could have saved our casualties. That would have meant more to me than anything. Now let us get our ship back in order.’”

“The pirates had been disposed of, but their weapons were still on the deck. I looked at them curiously and saw that the swords were wider and shorter than our short swords, and had curved blades. Captain Saan said they were called cutlasses and usually had the advantage for fighting at close quarters on the deck of a ship. I hefted one in my hands to determine the balance, and replied, ‘Let us begin sparring with the ones we have been gifted, and buy enough to outfit the crew when we get to Malin.’ The captain nodded in agreement and we cleaned up and set out for the port.”

Arya paused to drink some wine, noticed her husband grinning at her. “What?” she enquired, annoyed with his condescending attitude.

“You know, Arya,” Gendry slowly explained, “after the battle for Winterfell, the Hound came to see me in the forge. He didn’t say much, he mainly glared at me, but behaved like a father who wondered what the fuck his favorite daughter saw in some arsehole. Somehow he knew that we had been intimate. He finally allowed me some grudging respect.”

The wolf girl laughed, “He would never admit to normal human behavior, but I knew when we met after all those years, that he was pleased to see me again.”

Gendry chuckled, “Aye, he did say that if I ever hurt you, he would gut me. I told him that you were the toughest person I knew, and he actually kind of smiled at that. Then he told me how you attacked the wights on the walls, slicing through them with your weapon like an efficient killing machine, and seemed enormously proud of your fighting skills. I’ll wager that you enjoyed using those skills against the pirates, as it had been too long since you had shed any blood.” 

Now that Arya understood what had been on Gendry’s mind as she told her tale, she smiled wickedly, “You have the right of it. The pirates’ swordsmanship was pathetic compared to mine, but I loved every minute of slitting deserving throats and listening to their moans as they suffered. I had much satisfaction from tossing them overboard, dead or alive, and into the hungry jaws of the man-eating fishes.”

Gendry’s eyes went wide at her confession. “I’ll say it again. I hope never to be the subject of your wrath, milady. You really do scare me.”

The wicked smirk returned, “If you remain a good boy, you will only be subject to my lust, not my wrath.”

At that remark, the smith kissed her forehead and cuddled her closer, “I’ll take your lust any day, sweetling. That is what I live for.” It was getting late and the rest of her story would have to wait another day. 

\-------------------

The next evening, Arya and Gendry settled comfortably in their bed, and Arya took up her tale again.

“We docked in Marin and purchased more cutlasses and supplies, and then anchored out in the harbor, for we wanted to be out of the sight of prying eyes as we practiced sparring with our new weapons. The cutlasses were designed for close fighting on the deck of a ship, where there is limited room to maneuver and swing a sword. We needed to become comfortable with these unfamiliar blades before entering open water again, realizing the ocean was thickly populated with pirates, and as _Nymeria_ was considerably slower than the brigantines, we would probably be considered as a prize again.”

“The second day in the harbor we were hailed by the bosun of what was obviously a captain’s longboat. It displayed a white pennant, the universal symbol of truce, and belonged to the _Ochre Lady,_ a sleek and beautiful brigantine swinging at anchor nearby. I invited the captain aboard and was surprised to see that the captain was a woman, who was just as surprised to meet me.” 

“Renwick was called to initiate conversation and find a common tongue, and I learned that my curious visitor was named Lanna Otherys, a native of the port city of Corinth in Americos. She had observed how unusual _Nymeria_ was compared to the local ships, and had surmised that we had come from far away. Captain Otherys was full of questions when I admitted that we had come from the far side of her world. She was intelligent, open, and friendly, and insisted that I call her Lanna. She had about thirty namedays, appeared to be graceful and muscular, and was attired in feminine silks like the Dornish. Lanna was as tall as Sansa, with loose blonde hair, bleached by extended time in the sun, riveting green eyes, and her complexion was light brown with numerous freckles across the bridge of her nose. She was quite beautiful and reminded me of the lovely, self-confident Sand Snake, Lady Nym.”

“Lanna insisted that I tell her my story, and I related that I was the second daughter of one of the most prominent families of my land, but had rejected the expected role of marrying a high lord and bearing his babes. Instead I became a fighter and after surviving several major wars, chose to leave the rebuilding country and seek my own fortune, as I had always wondered what was west of Westeros. My rank afforded me the resources to be outfitted with _Nymeria_ and my crew, and I set out into uncharted waters. That was all I told her about myself, but later I learned that my devoted crewmembers, proud of their lady’s accomplishments, told the full story of my exploits to the bosun and crew of Lanna’s personal dinghy, and of course Lanna heard it all from them. Lanna told me this later and insisted that I was being too modest.”

“Lanna replied, ‘we have much in common,’ and explained that she was also noble born and the restless type, yearning to eventually go to sea. She had no desire to live in a castle, but took up the study of swordsmanship and weaponry, and even spent some time as a courtesan, which is not considered to be as scandalous an occupation in Americos as it is in Westeros.”

“Gendry, when she said that she had been a courtesan, it reminded me that they felt the same way in Braavos, and I realized that if I had stayed longer at the House of Black and White, I would have been expected to continue my apprenticeship in a House of Pleasure for a while.”

Her husband shifted his position, “I am not comfortable with that and I am glad you left. The idea of strange men groping you or worse on a daily basis does not sit well with me.”

“I am not sure that I like the idea either,” Arya replied.

“Lanna compared our stories and concluded, ‘it seems that in both our lands, most women are expected to be quiet domestic partners, whose major function is to run a household and bear babes, and in the case of a noblewoman, to run a castle and bear heirs. A woman who does not aspire to that life has difficult choices to make. Independence is not as easy for a woman as for a man.’” 

Arya broke off and addressed her husband, “Gendry, at that point I realized that I missed you, and wondered if being with you was still an option. I still had a real desire for adventure, but I wanted you too.”

Gendry sighed and kissed the top of her head, “I confess that I have a limited desire for adventure, but I have wanted to be with you no matter what. I think that is one thing that sets us apart.” 

“Lanna asked me about _Nymeria’s_ figurehead and the symbols on her sails, and I replied that it was the direwolf sigil, the symbol of my House and family. I explained that I was raised in a cold climate, where it snows even in the summer, and the climate favored a hardy people, and was not for the weak. Our direwolves were larger than regular wolves and can grow to the size of ponies, are fearless, dangerous, and domineering, and tend to dominate any pack of wolves. I smiled at the memory and told her that I had been referred to as the she-wolf or the wolf girl at home. Lanna grinned and said, ‘I can see why.’ We became good friends, almost like real sisters in some ways, although as she had about ten more namedays, she was more of a mentor than a sister. Lanna started calling me ‘wolfie’ in private.” 

“I asked about her ship, the _Ochre Lady,_ and she proudly replied that she was designed more for speed rather than cargo capacity, and functioned as a privateer, escorting merchant ships and protecting them from pirates. Lanna said that she earned lucrative commissions from that occupation and she enjoyed her independence and life at sea.”

“Then she became serious and said that, as we had unfortunately learned, there were many pirates in the waters around Americos, and that _Nymeria_ would continue to be a target, for even though we did not transport many goods, _Nymeria_ was too slow a vessel. Lanna said that the _Ochre Lady_ would travel with us for a while and help us defend ourselves.”

“Lanna requested that I call Captain Saan to council, and she discussed protective means with us, suggesting that we employ long bows with flaming arrows to keep raiders at bay. She brought several of her experienced archers onboard and they demonstrated their craft for my crewmen. We practiced by tossing empty salt pork barrels overboard and aiming at them when they were at a reasonable distance. I was determined to practice my archery also, as I had been an accurate shooter back home. However, the long bow is mainly the weapon of tall, strong men, and I struggled. One of Lanna’s crew members was a woman who reminded me of Ser Brienne of Tarth, and she was the only woman to master the long bow. Several members of my crew, though, did become proficient with the weapon, and we laid in a supply of long bows, arrows, and pitch for the flames.”

“But you know how stubborn I am, and I persisted to practice with the long bow, eventually becoming better with it, but my arms ached each night and Lanna massaged my shoulders as we relaxed, supped, and conversed in the evenings. We had grown closer and spent much time together. I admired her as an older, more experienced version of myself, and listened to her advice, as I improved her swordfighting skills when we sparred.” 

“One evening, as she massaged my shoulders, and we had happened to mention Levant, I described how angry the maesters at the Citadel made me with their dismissal of a woman’s intelligence. Lanna gently turned me around and murmured, ‘Wolfie, you have lovely eyes, like storm clouds, and when they flash with anger, you are extraordinarily beautiful.’

"She stroked my cheek and lightly touched the scar on my forehead from the Battle for King’s Landing.”

“I replied that such talk makes me uncomfortable.”

“Lanna continued to stroke my cheeks and said, ‘I cannot see why it does, as you are obviously a passionate young woman.’ Then she leaned closer and gently kissed me on the lips, and I was surprised to realize that I was becoming aroused. This was unexpected, as only your touch had done that to me previously. I was curious about my feelings for my new friend.” 

“Lanna was now peppering my throat with soft butterfly kisses, and she asked, ‘Tell me, wolfie, do you have a lover on your ship?’”

“I instantly replied, ‘Thanks the gods, no. That would be too awkward.’”

“She was persistent, ‘Have you met any nice men here in Americos?’”

“I snorted, ‘Save for a fawning young ‘gocho’ I kissed on the grasslands, my experience has been that any men of the high seas are rotten to the core and have no respect for women.’”

“Obviously Lanna was still curious, ‘Surely some man has noticed you, sweetling. Did you have a lover in Westeros?’”

Gendry sat up straight for this conversation.

“I blushed at her suggestion and confessed, ‘A boy was in love with me and asked for my hand. I’ll never forget his words: All I know is that you are beautiful and I love you and none of this would be worth anything if you are not with me. So be with me.’”

“Lanna stared at me, ‘Well, go on! What did you do? I am in suspense!’”

“I lowered my eyes in embarrassment, ‘I rejected him. I tried to let him down gently, but I broke his heart just the same.’” Arya could hear Gendry choking back a whimper as he circled her waist with an arm. “I tried to explain myself to Lanna, ‘I knew at the time that I was determined to travel the world. Believe me, I _did_ have deep feelings for him, but he was the heir to one of the seven Great Houses of Westeros, and desperately wanted a lady wife and babes. I could not be that for him and I wanted him to move on and become a lord of a castle and marry a proper lady. I hoped that he would forget me.’” 

“Lanna eyed me in disbelief. She shook her head and earnestly replied, ‘Arya, you are a fool if you think that a boy who loves you would forget about you! He is probably still despondent at this moment!’” 

Gendry spontaneously kissed her, growling, “Damn right!” as he wiped tears from his eyes. 

“I protested, ‘But the boy wanted a lady. That’s not me.’”

“Lanna rolled her eyes contemptuously, ‘Words, words, words! Wolfie, you may not call yourself a lady, but you were born to rule. Whatever the label, you could probably have helped him in his work, and enjoyed the responsibility too. Besides, you admitted that you had feelings for him, and you would have been with him!’”

“I was looking at the deck as I had no idea what to say.” 

“Lanna gripped my shoulders and stared earnestly into my eyes. She was stronger than I had expected. ‘Arya, promise me that if you do manage to sail back to your country, you will find that boy and tell him that you love him!’”

“I’m sorry, Gendry, I was still doubtful, ‘Do you think he still loves me?’ I asked her.”

“‘Of course he does!’ Lanna rolled her eyes again and snapped, ‘I have known you for only three weeks and _I_ love you!’ She emphasized her point by kissing me again and insistently forcing her tongue into my mouth. It felt wonderful and I immediately responded. Gendry, kissing a girl was so different than kissing a boy. It’s hard to explain but it was softer and more sensual. I trusted her and relaxed in her arms and let Lanna take my concerns away. She was older and bigger and more experienced and I felt at peace and protected.” 

“Lanna was kissing my throat again and crooning, ‘Aye, little wolf, I love you and want to remove some of that tension you carry all the time. You barely relax under my massage.’ She had started to untie the laces of my tunic as she stroked my torso, and when she pulled it off, she looked at my scars, muttering, ‘You certainly have had a hard life.’ Lanna laughed when she saw my bindings, and rapidly removed them. She started to kiss and fondle my breasts, and at that point, I knew I was just going to melt and accept anything she wanted to do to me. Lanna sucked and bit and murmured, ‘Umm, beautiful. Why do you seek to hide these lovely teats?’”

“I was barely coherent, but replied, ‘I prefer to appear as a boy to prevent unwanted attention from my crew members and others. That has only led to trouble in the past.’”

“‘Things can be different in Americos,’ Lanna explained, ‘On my ship, the crew is composed of mixed genders. Many are young and there is frequent coupling and changing of partners. Sex is considered as a recreational activity and a tension reliever.’”

“I replied that I found that idea uncomfortable and only wanted to share intimacy with one partner, preferably the boy who loved me. I realized that I was more conservative than I thought.”

“Lanna had been kissing my breasts and stomach and now said, ‘No matter, I can bring you satisfaction as you yearn for that boy far away,’ and she slipped her hand inside my smallclothes and fondled my mound. I threw my head back and moaned and involuntarily spread my thighs. Before I knew it, my breeches and smallclothes were on the floor and Lanna gazed at me with lust and affection in her eyes. She grinned and said, ‘I am going to pleasure you in a way that you can teach that boy, so that when you meet again, you will never want to leave him.’ With that said, she lowered her mouth to kiss me between my legs, and gifted me with an experience that I will never forget. I had mentioned that Lanna had been a skilled courtesan, and she certainly showed me what delightful things she had learned. For the rest of our time together, she pleasured me every evening, and I have never been so content in my life.’”

Now Arya caught Gendry’s eyes and said, “I learned that this practice is called the ‘Lord’s Kiss’ in Westeros, and I am going to teach you how to kiss me and make me yours forever.”

“Sounds good to me,” Gendry rumbled, as his eyes were filled with lust, “Now finish your tale for the night, as we have pressing business to attend to.”

Arya grinned, “Mayhaps the rest can wait, for I am interested in this pressing business also.” And she pulled her silks over her head and presented her breasts with their hard teats to his mouth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next: Arya reflects on her relationship with Lanna. The journey continues.
> 
> Fan fiction writers thrive on caffeine and comments.


	7. Revelation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Arya reflects on her relationship with Lanna and how it is affecting her frame of mind. The journey continues.

Previously: 

Lanna Otherys introduces Arya to the sweet world of physical pleasure, gifting her with the ‘Lord’s Kiss’. She also acts as her mentor in other ways.

\-------------------

Arya woke up the next morning after Lanna had lavished attention to her body in ways that she had never even imagined sharing with Gendry. She blinked her eyes and cleared her mind, realizing that she was naked under the sheets and her limbs were still entangled with those of the blonde beauty. Lanna was still asleep with a smile on her lips and Arya noticed that her breasts were as large and lovely as those of Margery Tyrell, in fact, the curves of her full figure were extremely enticing. Arya blushed as she recalled how Lanna’s mouth and hands had repeatedly brought forth cries of bliss from her all night long until she had passed out from exhaustion, totally satiated. She had experienced a few moments of contentment during her brief tryst with Gendry, but she had never imagined what erotic pleasure actually could be like. 

The wolf princess gazed at her mentor and lover with appreciation for introducing her to this new world of sexual gratification, and admitted to herself that she had not really imagined that women could pleasure one another as Lanna had done to her the previous night. She had been aware of lust in Lanna’s eyes, and yet wondered, _how can this be considered a conquest, as she cannot stick a cock inside me?_ She realized that Lanna was being honest when she had said that she loved her, and Arya acknowledged that, in return, she had a great deal of affection for her new friend. As if she felt Arya’s eyes on her, Lanna awoke and smiled at the younger girl, reaching up to stroke her cheek and then moved her hand to fondle a breast, causing Arya to immediately feel a response in her lower belly. 

“Well, sweetling, did you enjoy yourself last night?” she grinned knowingly.

Arya nodded, “I have never felt such pleasure and it was wonderful! When you placed your mouth between my legs, I lost all control and simply felt wave after wave of ecstasy sweep over me until I lost consciousness. Thank you so much!”

Lanna’s hand had started to squeeze one of Arya’s teats, which was beginning to stiffen, and the older girl seemed to have a mission. Arya gasped when Lanna’s other hand covered her mound and she slowly slid two fingers into her slit, pumping gently. She murmured, “There is no reason to break our fast right away; we can continue to enjoy ourselves if you like.”

Arya’s eyes closed and she fell back on the bed, spreading her legs wide and whispering, “I like.”

A half hour and two exquisite orgasms later, Lanna bent over Arya’s face and kissed her lightly, as the wolf girl tasted her own unique juices on her lover’s lips. Now Lanna said, “Wolfie, I would be most pleased if you would return the same attention as I have given to you,” and grasping Arya’s hands, she demonstrated how she could massage her breasts, passage, and nub, and prepare her for further lovemaking. She encouraged Arya to fondle and kiss her breasts, and Arya found that she was becoming aroused as Lanna writhed and moaned under her ministrations, and before she even realized what she was doing, she was grasping Lanna’s parted thighs and had buried her face in the older girl’s slit and was sucking and prodding with her tongue and bringing Lanna to a climax similar to the one she herself had earlier enjoyed. 

After they had pleasured each other enough to finally awaken a desire for food rather than more intimacy, Lanna purred, “Wolfie, you are a quick study and I think that our evenings will be most entertaining from now on.”

Arya was stroking Lanna’s torso and realizing that she found touching her soft skin to be thrilling, “Aye, you have taught me how we can derive much wonderful pleasure from each other and I look forward to sharing your bed tonight.” But she was now reflecting on how much she desired Lanna’s mouth on her cunny and thought, _Gendry must learn how to pleasure me like that. If he had kissed me thus in Winterfell on those grain sacks, I might have stayed in Westeros after the regime change! I will teach him this practice if and when I see him again. And I know that I want to see him again!_

\-------------------

Arya realized that meeting Lanna was a turning point in her life. She had never had such a close female friend. She noticed her similarities to Lanna right away and viewed the older woman as a role model; the person she might become when she matured. Lanna was a fighter and a leader, but was also as feminine as Sansa, and these two different sides to her personality seemed to be in balance. First Lanna was her friend, then her gentle mentor, and then the two women slowly developed a physical bond. Lanna had declared that she loved Arya, and the wolf girl was becoming comfortable with their relationship, even sitting in her lap whilst chatting during the evenings following the shoulder massage sessions. After Lanna encouraged Arya to return her physical attention, they became even closer and shared a berth every night, moving from ship to ship every few days.

When Arya went to the House of Black and White, she thought at first that the waif might become her friend, but was dismayed to learn that she was really a sadist, who enjoyed tormenting the younger girl. The waif was not a friend or mentor at all, but an enemy. All Arya’s other friends and mentors had been male, and it had been difficult for the girl to find a role model. If perceptive Lord Tywin had not realized that Arya was going through puberty at Harrenhal and ordered her to consult a sympathetic kitchen maid, she might have been even more mixed up about the confusing changes that were occurring in her body. Lanna was her first real confidant and genuinely supportive female friend.

The older girl encouraged Arya to reflect that her abrupt departure from Westeros had been hasty and possibly unnecessary. For the first time in eight years the Stark siblings had had an opportunity to enjoy a reunion in peacetime, and she had avoided it. Her farewell to Jon, both siblings considering that they would never meet again, had been tearful and poignant. And her avoidance of Gendry was needlessly cruel to him, now that she learned that he definitely had been in much emotional pain.

Lanna helped Arya to consider a change in her mission. Instead of wandering aimlessly over the globe, she would think about eventually finding her way back to those she loved. She admitted to herself that, even though her facial expression, hairstyle, and clothing indicated otherwise, she was _not_ made of stone, but missed her family greatly. And what was wrong with sharing Gendry’s life? She kept denying that she was a lady, but as a highborn she was raised to be a leader, which was what Gendry had basically asked her to be, to help him rule his people. And she also reluctantly admitted that she loved him and missed him, and Gendry could fill that empty part of her heart. Arya wickedly smirked to herself, _and he can satisfactorily fill another part of my body too!_ Arya realized that she loved both Gendry and Lanna, and the older, wiser, and affectionate woman explained that there was nothing unusual about that, that she should enjoy having two serious intimate relationships.

Arya had only experienced nineteen namedays and after discussing her feelings with her friend Lanna frequently, she now had a better idea of what she desired to do with all those years hopefully in front of her. The wolf girl became more cheerful, and _Nymeria’s_ crew also became aware of her change in humor, and her sailors were happy for her and for themselves. Their leader was no longer running away from life, but moving towards a worthy goal.

\-------------------

Arya’s long bow tutor was a woman who reminded her of Ser Brienne. Tuvenel, a fighting mariner of an age with Lanna, was encouraged by Arya’s earnestness and determination to master a skill that was obviously difficult for a woman her size. Arya was aware of a sense of affection, approval, and something more as Tuvenel worked with her, realizing that there was also a touch of mild lust in her gaze. She recalled Anguy of the Brotherhood, who also mentored her in archery and seemed to cast a slightly predatory gaze at her as he touched her torso and arms to correct her stance. She was so young at the time and would probably not have noticed Anguy’s behavior, except that she had observed Gendry’s jealousy of the older boy, as the young smith had viewed Anguy’s attention to her with a dark, murderous expression and his hands balled up into fists. She realized that one word of complaint about the archer’s wayward hands and Gendry would have broken Anguy’s nose.

Arya was grateful for Tuvenel’s lessons, and once overheard a comment not meant for her ears when Tuvenel smirked at Lanna, murmuring, ‘You surely like the young ones, don’t you, captain?' 

Lanna had smiled, “And would you not like to kiss the sweet young thing, yourself, Tuvie? I believe she is quite innocent and curious to learn about lovemaking.” 

Arya was not a child anymore and did not consider herself to be to a ‘sweet young thing’, but both women were much older and more experienced than her. But of course, compared to them, she _was_ quite innocent about many matters and was curious as to what they could teach her. And she was beginning to really enjoy the many ways that Lanna could arouse her and bring her physical gratification. She dutifully followed Lanna’s instructions and continued to learn how to give her friend pleasure also, as they spent their nights sharing a berth tangled in each other’s arms.

\-------------------

Arya and Lanna made it a practice of moving frequently between their two ships, and their crews also started doing the same as they practiced with long bows and sparred with cutlasses, each crew demonstrating their native swordfighting techniques. As a group, Lanna’s crew members were younger and lighthearted, and were amused and intrigued with Arya’s crew, which was composed of sober, serious-minded middle-aged and older seamen. Some of Lanna’s crew were curious enough to even tempt Arya’s men into their berths, and a few sailors found it hard to resist the seductive young women _and_ men, and succumbed to the desires of the flesh. Shipmates teased ‘the fallen ones’ a little bit, but only in good fun, and both crews became friendly and enjoyed each other’s company, almost mirroring the behavior of their leaders. 

\-------------------

One afternoon when Tuvenel was coaching Arya about handling the long bow, she praised the younger girl’s accuracy for a solid strike on the target and commented how her elbows had been properly placed. Arya tilted her head up and flashed a bright smile. Tuvenel’s eyes suddenly shone with lust, and she wrapped her arm around Arya’s waist, drew her closer, leaned down and kissed the back of her neck, murmuring, “I find it hard to resist you, wolf princess. Why don’t we go below decks? I would love to explore what your leathers conceal and would enjoy feeling your hands under my silks.”

Arya tried not to withdraw too abruptly and discomfit her mentor, but she leaned back, blushed, and replied, “I am flattered by your, um, interest, Tuvie, but I do not feel comfortable becoming familiar with more than one man and one woman. I spent a good part of my younger life estranged from normal emotions, and even now I am just getting used to the concept of intimacy.”

Tuvenel appeared disappointed, but kissed her chastely on the lips and sighed, “You are a sweet one and I envy Lanna. But if you ever decide to indulge your curiosity, you will come find me, no?”

Believing that would never become an issue, Arya nodded, “Aye, Tuvie, I will.”

\-------------------

Lanna convinced Arya to open her braid, as she liked to see the younger girl’s lovely chestnut hair flowing over her shoulders, and helped her to weave two smaller braids to keep loose hair out of her face. She also encouraged Arya to wear her silks more often, smirking that her leathers were less conducive for their frequent intimacy, as wrestling with laces was time-consuming and frustrating. Lanna even gifted her with delicate and sheer silk smallclothes, and Arya discovered that she liked how cool and comfortable they felt on her skin. When Arya thanked her, Lanna grinned, “Actually, those smallclothes are a gift that _I_ appreciate, as I relish how you appear in them.” 

Arya’s crewmen were amused by their leader’s budding femininity, but they also found her new demeanor more appealing than the stern, somber, and emotionless woman who had first boarded _Nymeria_ so long ago. The men saw her smiling more often and were happy with her change of heart. Captain Saan even ventured that he found her to be more pleasant company these days, which made Arya embarrassed, but she did not want to elaborate on the changes.

\-------------------

Eventually, the two ships made their way to the west coast of Americos, and cruised northwards along the shore, inspecting the landscape. Arya observed a dramatic change in the ecology as they traveled. Rounding the southwestern corner of the continent she noticed tall cliffs rising above the shore, with sparse vegetation, mainly scrub brush and small bushes set in sandy soil, indicating a hot and dry climate. The hillsides had many gullies and piles of muddy sand on the beach, a sign of infrequent violent rainstorms leading to flash floods.

Further north, the climate was a bit cooler and wetter, and she saw coastline forests with astonishingly tall trees, even larger than those seen in the tropical rain forest. Through her spyglass she could see that the bases of the trees were as wide as houses, and the tree trunks were similar to the towers of a castle.

They ultimately came to a lush landscape, a dense forest of fir trees, the evergreens appearing even a richer green than Winterfell’s own Wolfswood. The forest was very damp and cloud-covered it seemed to experience rain every day. The beach below the forest was beautiful, with gently rolling breakers and a strand of fine sand and small pebbles. Lanna and Arya took a small dinghy and rowed to shore for a private picnic of nude sunbathing, splashing in the waves, and wrestling on a towel.

The ships were anchored at a reasonable distance from the shore, and the sailors used the quiet time to make minor repairs such as sewing sails and tarring ropes. Renwick noticed a small group of sailors on the landward rail fighting over a spyglass, and as he approached he heard one exclaiming, “Seven hells, Captain Lanna has the figure of a fertility goddess!”

Another sailor grabbed the spyglass, shouting, “Gimme that!” He focused and responded, “Aye, that she is! And a natural blonde to boot!” He paused for a moment and continued, “Milady may not be as voluptuous, but she is not hard to gaze at either.”

The third sailor seized the spyglass, and looking in the same direction, snickered, “Surely a beauty also, and a natural brunette!”

Renwick was now upon them and ordered, “Give it here!” as he roughly grabbed the spyglass and scolded, “Shame on you lot for invading our leaders' privacy! Get back to work! The ratlines need tarring!” Renwick was the third mate and was not shy about taking charge. The guilty sailors scattered and Renwick, looking at the spyglass in his hand, could not help but gaze briefly at the beach, muttering, “Aye, Captain Lanna _is_ a sight to behold, and the wolf princess has a sweet figure too!” Then he abruptly removed the glass from his eye and slapped his cheek, blurting out, “Shame on me! What was I thinking?!” As he stalked to the stern, he reflected, _I hope that lovely sight does not disturb my sleep tonight, but I fear that images of those ladies will appear in my dreams!_

\-------------------

Arya looked longingly at the vast amount open water on this side of the continent. One evening, whilst secure in Lanna’s embrace and enjoying her lover’s lips nibbling on her neck, she watched a glorious sunset, the red, orange, and yellow colors of the setting sun amidst the clouds painting an elaborate display on the horizon. After delighting in the appearance of the green flash following the sunset, Arya released a small sigh. Lanna turned the smaller girl around in her lap and gazed at her mournfully, “You are ready to continue your quest, aren’t you, wolfie?”

Arya lowered her eyes, unable to witness the sadness on her lover’s face, and nodded, “Aye, I still crave to know where my journey will take me, and I feel restless again.” 

It was Lanna’s turn to sigh now, and she tried not to be too emotional, “I knew this would happen someday, but hoped the day would not arrive for a long time.” Lanna kissed her tenderly and began to slowly remove their clothing, making passionate love to Arya deep into the night, until they feel asleep totally exhausted, all their limbs entangled. 

As they broke their fast the following morning, Lanna said, “Wolfie, I feel that I should tell you that very few Americosi sailors have attempted the voyage into the western ocean, and none of those that did have ever returned; they simply disappeared forever.” 

Arya mulled this over for a while and decided to give her crew a choice. She gathered her men and repeated what Lanna had told her, finishing with, “There is no shame if any of you prefer to end your journey here, as continuing with me may lead to your death.”

Lanna volunteered, “The _Ochre Lady_ will welcome any who wish to remain in Americos.”

But not one crew member of _Nymeria_ wanted to stay behind. Speaking for the crew, Renwick replied, “Milady, you are our leader and we will follow you into the jaws of death.” The followers of the Seven echoed his words, but called Arya their ‘goddess’, and the practical girl tried not to roll her eyes. She looked at Captain Saan, who merely shrugged and said, “I find that I still crave adventure, milady. Who knows what else we will find?” 

Arya described her leave-taking from Lanna to her husband. “We set our course into the sunset again. The _Ochre Lady_ accompanied _Nymeria_ until land was almost out of sight, then she came about and returned home with Lanna waving farewell from the stern. I waved back until we could no longer see each other.”

Arya paused and wiped her eyes. “Gendry, you know now that I had avoided you before sailing away because I lacked the nerve to say farewell for fear of breaking down and possibly not even leaving at all. Well, I could not avoid an emotional show of parting from Lanna, and our leaving-taking was as painful as I expected. We must have embraced for an hour on the deck of the _Ochre Lady,_ hugging each other tightly, until Lanna sighed, kissed my forehead, and gently pushed me away, murmuring, ‘Wolfie, the crew of your longboat has been waiting patiently.’ We shared one last passionate kiss and I quickly climbed over the railing and down the rope ladder, dropping into the boat without glancing back and declared, ‘Cast off!’ I knew that I would have burst into tears if I looked upon her face again.” 

Gendry tenderly embraced her and she sagged in his arms. He whispered softly, “You really loved her, didn’t you?”

She turned her tearstained face to her husband and sighed, “Aye, we had only known each other for about four months, but had developed a strong bond during that brief time. Lanna was like the older sister I always needed and more. Among other things, she taught me about love, and encouraged me to find my way back to you, saying that I had been too young to recognize true love when it had been offered. Strangely enough, my love for her did not compete with my love for you, but even increased my desire to return home and find out if you were waiting for me, as Lanna insisted was so. I think she taught me to appreciate that I was loved, for I was even thinking that it would be nice to see my family again, if fate would allow me return to Westeros.”

Now Arya favored her husband with a wan smile, and she continued, “In fact, Lanna gave me a gift that she said would enhance our relationship if I was so fortunate to find you again, and since I am exhausted from recounting Lanna’s story, I think this would be a good time to open the present.” She surprised Gendry by initiating a deep, passionate kiss, with one hand stroking his chest and the other sliding down his belly to fondle his cock. Gendry had such sympathy for Arya’s sense of loss for her friend that he wanted to give her pleasure and help her deal with her emotion turmoil. He kissed her on the mouth, then worked his way to her bosom, lavishing attention on her stiffening teats and each soft breast. Meanwhile, he was becoming very aroused by the actions of her hand on his cock, and in preparation for entering her cunny, he slid one hand down to fondle her mound and nub and inserted two fingers into her wet and welcoming slit.

Arya moaned with her mouth on the top of his head as he gently thrust his fingers in and out, back and forth, and swirling around her folds, feeling her passage becoming even more damp and receptive. As he was about to shift his position and bring his throbbing cock closer to her center, Arya placed her hands on his shoulders and tapped to get his attention, breathlessly whispering, “Gendry, I want you should look at me.” 

She slid to the edge of the bed, raised her silks, and parted her thighs, motioning him to get on his knees and place his face in a position to stare into her wet and shiny secret place. He marveled at her dripping folds and inhaled her unique scent as she murmured, “I want you to kiss me there. Please, Gendry!” Arya’s pelvis had begun to pulsate as if to draw him in, and he grasped her satiny milk-white thighs and placed his lips over her labia and started to suck. Arya groaned with pleasure and ordered, “Please use your tongue!” He extended his tongue into her channel and copied the motions his fingers had performed earlier. 

Arya moaned loudly now in response, pressed her slit into his face, and squeezed her thighs together, trapping his head in place as if she never intended to release him, her moans becoming louder and louder as she pulsated against him. It made no matter, for he had no desire to withdraw. He became overcome with passion and was now ardently molding his lips to her slit and delving frantically into the depth of her cunny with his tongue, relishing the juices that were soaking his face. Gendry had become so aroused by the attention he had directed at his favorite location on her torso that he had to fondle his swollen cock and work feverishly to bring himself to that intense orgasm he could feel Arya was about to experience. Just as his seed began to spurt into his hand, Arya’s body stiffened, her legs shot out straight, and her toes curled as she screamed, “Ooh! Ooh! Ooh! Seven hells, Geeeeendryyyyy!” and fell back exhausted and gasping for breath, parting her thighs and releasing his head.

He leaned back and grinned at her sweaty, panting face, which also bore a broad smile and dreamy eyes. “Is milady satisfied?” he asked with a smile, wiping the excess sticky fluids from his mouth and chin.

“Wonderfully!” Arya replied enthusiastically, “That was exquisite! Considering that was your first Lord’s Kiss, I think that even Lanna would have approved of your technique!”

Gendry decided to be a bit vulgar considering the circumstances, and leered, “From your description of her, Lanna must be most beautiful. I fancy that I would have enjoyed giving her a Lord’s Kiss also. What do you think?”

Arya slapped his shoulder hard, but not with enough force to intentionally hurt him. “I do not think that I want to share you!” she pouted.

“Interesting,” he replied with raised eyebrows, “You can make love to Lanna but I cannot? I do not understand.”

Arya sighed, “It’s complicated and I do not understand either. I just do not think I could witness you lavishing attention on another woman when I would prefer that you lavish said attention on _me!_ ”

Gendry grinned wickedly, “And yet, I would be entertained by watching you pleasure Lanna or vice versa.”

Arya laughed, “See, it _is_ complicated!”

“Well, even if you would prefer that I not give Lanna the Lord’s Kiss, I would have liked to thank her for providing the means to give my favorite woman much sexual satisfaction. Just to see your sweet, contented face afterwards inspires me to gift you with this special kiss often.”

“Thank you, Gendry,” Arya smiled as she directed him to move up her body and kiss her lips, “I will be so pleased if you do.” Then she favored him with a wicked grin, “In fact, if you had been able to give me a Lord’s Kiss when we were writhing on those grain sacks in Winterfell, there is a chance that I would have desperately searched out your company in King’s Landing and mayhaps never left on my voyage.” 

Gendry laughed loudly, “Wouldst I had known that at the time! I might have been able to entice you to Storm’s End much sooner!”

“Who knows what fate has in store for anyone?” she smiled shyly, “but I am here now after my adventures and am happy to be in your bed. That is all that matters.”

“Aye,” Gendry kissed her forehead, “having you here is all that matters to me.”

Arya yawned, “I’ll tell you what happened after I parted from Lanna tomorrow night.” She cuddled closer to him and closed her eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next: _Nymeria_ continues to follow the setting sun.
> 
> Fan fiction writers thrive on caffeine and comments.


	8. The High Seas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Arya travels into unknown waters again, risking an encounter with death.

Previously: 

Arya looked longingly at the vast amount open water on the west side of the continent. One evening, whilst secure in Lanna’s embrace and enjoying her lover’s lips nibbling on the neck, she watched a glorious sunset, the red, orange, and yellow colors of the setting sun amidst the clouds painting an elaborate display on the horizon. After delighting in the appearance of the green flash following the sunset, Arya released a small sigh. Lanna turned the smaller girl around in her lap and gazed at her mournfully, “You are ready to continue your quest, aren’t you, wolfie?”

Arya lowered her eyes, unable to witness the sadness on her lover’s face, and nodded, “Aye, I still crave to know where my journey will take me, and I feel restless again.” 

\-------------------

“Well, Gendry, two months later, _Nymeria_ was once again out in uncharted, empty waters. I had made sure to lay in a sufficient supply of foodstuffs, bland hardtack and salt pork mostly, simple fare but reliable for providing needed energy. Fresh water was always an issue, and we hoped for timely rainstorms to replenish our barrels. Unfortunately, frequent rainfall was too much to hope for, and four weeks out of Americos, the water casts were becoming empty again.”

Captain Saan was often seen at the bow with his spyglass, searching the sky for birds. As he told Arya, birds were usually an indicator for land, and would lead the ship to potable water. One day he excitedly called out that he had seen birds on the horizon and Arya rushed to join him at the bow. _Nymeria_ approached the flocks of gulls wheeling in the sky and Arya was disappointed to see only a handful of small, rocky islands. They were covered in birdshite and were too small to hope to provide any fresh water. Captain Saan continued to study the rocks with his spyglass and he gave a start, telling her, “I see several shipwrecks near those rocks. We must approach carefully and not get too close, as these waters appear to be treacherous.”

Arya called out for several of the off-duty seafarers to come forward and assist inspecting the islands, and the most sharp-eyed sailor spotted a few submerged rocks just below the surface which would have stove in _Nymeria’s_ hull if she attempted to sail over them. Captain Saan sang out orders to the helmsman at the wheel, and the ship slowly drew closer to the wrecks, avoiding any dangerous obstacles. When they were close enough, Arya called for her longboat to be lowered, and her bosun and crew jumped to their stations, with the wolf girl and Captain Saan climbing down the rope ladder after them.

As her crew rowed and sang a ditty to keep time with their oars, Captain Saan inspected the black rocks of the tiny islands. Finally he turned to Arya and related, “This is a cluster of old, extinct, and eroded volcanoes. Some never rose above the surface of the ocean, but some were weathered right down to sea level. Ships that were careless enough to venture too close to these unseen obstacles met a tragic fate.”

They landed on one of the islands, secured the longboat, and inspected the wreckage. There was nothing worth salvaging and no indication as to what had happened to the ship’s crew. Captain Saan looked over to another wreck on a nearby rock and motioned for Arya to come closer so she could hear his voice over the crashing waves. Pointing to what remained of the vessel, he explained, “This ship obviously was of Americosi design, but the one over there I am positive was built in Westeros or Essos, possibly even Braavos.”

Arya’s eyes went wide and she replied, “Do you think…..?” She could not even finish her sentence.

Captain Saan nodded, “It is a distinct possibility. If I had not been so cautious, we would have shared their fate.”

But Arya was lost in her thoughts, _could we, mayhaps, have discovered what happened to the mysterious adventurer, Elissa Farman? I’ll wager we will never know, for we have no proof that this is her ship._

\-------------------

Leaving the rocky islands behind, they did not see any indication of land for several more months. They had sailed for much longer than the trip between Elissa’s islands and the tropical islands they found before arriving at Americos. Fresh water was severely rationed and food supplies ran low. Finally they were reduced to quarter rations, and the salt pork was difficult to swallow with so little water available to wash it down their parched throats. Eating even hurt their chapped and dry lips, and the hardtack biscuits were beginning to taste more like wood that bread. At least Arya had thought to lay in a sufficient supply of concentrated lime juice to ward off scurvy, but with dwindling fresh water, the sailors’ ration of lime juice had to be diluted with more rum than water. They were all little tipsy after drinking their daily dose of ‘grog’, but their shipboard responsibilities had decreased over time, so it did not matter as much.

To make matters worse, one day the wind died and the ocean surface resembled a mirror, as smooth as glass all the way to the horizon. After a week of blue skies and hot windless weather, Captain Saan became desperate to move and sent out three longboats in an attempt to pull the ship. It was hard work and the weakened sailors eventually could not heave the oars anymore and the disconsolate captain gave up.

Arya found Captain Saan passed out over a chart in his cabin; even the resolute and hearty experienced seafarer was weakening. Arya embraced him and confessed, “Captain, you have been wonderful to me, and I will regret it forever if I have brought on your demise.”

He smiled weakly and replied, “Nae, do not fret, wolf princess. I have enjoyed a long and rich life, and you have shown me adventures I never would have imagined. This voyage has meant the world to me. Milady, I think of you as the bold daughter I never had, and I love you for your fearless nature.” The captain kissed her on cheek and continued, “And besides, we cannot die, for you have a mission to complete, and I aim to help you attain your goal.” He found the strength to grin weakly now, “What do we say to the God of Death?” 

Arya chuckled and exclaimed, “Not today!”

Hardships mounted, the health of the older sailors declined, and several took to their berths more often, exhausted and drained of energy. The two oldest sea dogs eventually could not leave their hammocks in the focsle at all. The concerned surgeon came to Arya with his worries, and she went below decks to observe the invalids. The wolf princess grieved that old Tomard, who possessed sixty namedays, had just passed away. Arya closed his eyelids, muttering, “May the Old Gods watch over him,” and his shipmates sang a sailors’ dirge as they sewed him into his hammock in preparation for a burial at sea. 

Dependable Hallis, who had seen fifty namedays, was swinging in the next hammock, almost unconscious. He looked pale and his eyes were closed, but his breathing was regular, and the surgeon whispered that he had refused to eat. Captain Saan’s face wore a hopeless expression. Arya looked thoughtful for a moment, and then sent everyone out of the focsle. She was aware that Hallis worshiped the Seven, as her lady mother and sister had, and she knew a bit about his beliefs. The wolf girl dropped her silks to the floor and sternly ordered, “Hallis, open your eyes!” 

The old seaman’s eyes fluttered at first, but then they cleared and widened, and he stared at the vision that confronted him, seeing the long, wavy chestnut hair spreading over her shoulders, her strong legs, and the triangle of brown curls where they converged. His eyes moved over her small alabaster breasts with their raspberry teats and up to her grave face, then back to her breasts again. Arya intoned, as if she were a septa reciting a benediction, “Hallis, you have seen the Warrior goddess, and also the Maiden. Your distress has now brought the Mother to your side. I care for you and want you to live. You are important to me. You _will_ recover and return to your duty!” 

Hallis continued to gape at the image before him. Starvation had not been kind to Arya’s form; her ribs were visible and her hips were bony, but her waist was narrower now and her figure overall was that of the nurturing Mother. Arya slowly leaned over the delirious sailor in his hammock and her breasts swung over his face. He feebly reached up and cupped a breast with a shaky hand and placed his parched lips on a teat, sucking as if to receive milk. She allowed him to hold and suckle both breasts until he fell back into his hammock, his eyes closed once more, but he was now smiling and breathing a bit easier. Arya took a piece of hardtack, soaked it in water, and bid him, “Eat!” Hallis nibbled slowly at first, but then greedily chewed the rest of the biscuit and fell into a restful sleep. The she-wolf pulled on her silks, called for the surgeon, and advised him, “I think he will live if you continue to encourage him to eat until his strength returns.”

The next day, a huge rainstorm engulfed the ship, and the crew scurried to use the sails as funnels to refill the precious water barrels, never mind that the first water collected was muddy from the dust covering the worn canvas. They knew that the dirt would settle to the bottom of the casks. It rained all afternoon and into the evening, and the subsequent rainwater collected was much cleaner. The voyagers filled three fourth of their barrels and were out of the immediate danger of dehydration. _Nymeria’s_ crew was relieved to see that after the storm passed, the wind remained, and the seafarers found themselves sailing at a brisk clip for weeks on end. 

Arya was standing on the deck, out of sight but within earshot of Hallis and the other members of his watch as they were sewing new tunics of cotton duck canvas. Hallis was recounting his remarkable recovery for his shipmates. “During my delirium, the Mother came to me in my dreams, beautiful and potent in her naked glory, declaring that she cared for me and beseeching me to find the will to live. She generously offered me sustenance from her splendid breasts; I suckled and was strengthened, and when she encouraged me to eat solid food, I complied and my health began to improve. Lads, the Mother herself healed me and I am blessed!”

The next afternoon, an impudent sailor from Hallis’ watch approached Arya with the air of a supplicant and japed, “Milady, I have been feeling poorly and need succor. I implore you to provide for me the same miracle treatment as Hallis received in his plight,” and he looked pointedly at her chest. 

Arya laughed, flipped her braid over her shoulder, and retorted, “I am the Maiden, not the Mother, and cannot provide any milk! Mayhaps some rum will improve your health.” 

\-------------------

More time passed without much change to the crew’s activities, and Captain Saan could usually be found at the bow, leaning on the rail, with his spyglass trained on the horizon. One afternoon his hands shook and he shouted with delight, “Aha! Milady, please come forward, if you please!” Arya rushed to his side and he handed her the glass, “Princess, focus on that dark form above the water four points to starboard at a distance of a half a mile.” 

Arya aimed the lens in the direction he suggested and found herself gazing at a large and graceful black bird gliding effortlessly over the water. She looked closely and observed its long straight beak with a hook on the end, wide wingspan of almost 8 feet tip to tip, and the forked tail in the shape of a deep ‘V’. Captain Saan excitedly announced, “That is an example of the ‘Magnificent Frigatebird’, a species that flies the farthest away from land, searching for fish to eat. I am hopeful that we are approaching an island or a continent.”

Arya continued to stare at the bird, “That is welcome news, Captain.”

Observing how closely Arya was following the flight of the Frigatebird, he continued, “Do you see the patch of white on its chest? That indicates the bird is a female.”

Arya smiled, “Another woman is welcoming me! I believe that implies good fortune.” 

Captain Saan grinned, “Aye, she is a harbinger of fresh food and potable water!” 

Two days later the lookout atop the mainmast called out, “Land ho!” and the captain, Arya, and the duty watch rushed to the rail. In the distance was a volcanic island, large enough to have clouds surrounding the tall, mountainous center. As _Nymeria_ approached, the crew watched for treacherous reefs, and they noted that the mountain was covered with lush green vegetation and exotic bird calls came from the dense jungle. _Nymeria_ was steered though a large gap in the reef and easily anchored in a quiet lagoon.

As Captain Saan regarded the wide strand of black sand at the base of the mountain, waves gently breaking at the shoreline, he said, “I have no doubt that we will find a stream with delicious water in that jungle, mayhaps even a waterfall and pool for a refreshing bath.” He called for two longboats to be lowered and Arya joined the exploratory party, first ensuring that she had her blades on her belt.

The longboats were rowed right up on the beach, and just as men jumped from the vessels with anchors to secure them in the sand, hostile islanders suddenly burst from the jungle, shouting and waving spears. Their faces and shoulders were painted with white and red stripes, and Captain Saan looked alarmed, exclaiming, “I have seen aboriginals on Sothoryos wearing similar paint, and they were cannibals!”

One sailor yelped in fear, “I don’t want to get eaten!” 

Arya wrinkled her nose and grinned, “Not to worry, Wyl. You have not bathed in months. I doubt that you are very tasty.”

Captain Saan had called out to the men take up their oars and make haste to retreat from the beach, but the islanders let loose with a flurry of spears before the longboats could row out of range. Alyn took a spear in the leg, but it did not penetrate deeply, and once the blade had been removed, the flow of blood was easily staunched. Arya was in Alyn’s boat and helped wrap the wound, commenting that he had been fortunate. Relieved that he had not been seriously injured, Alyn grinned, “Milady, I will heal faster if you kiss the booboo.” 

His shipmates hooted and laughed as they furiously rowed back to the ship, but the she-wolf’s eyes flashed and she frowned, retorting, “You men are becoming too familiar with me. I may have to knock a few heads around whilst sparring to regain your respect.” 

The crew regrouped and assessed the situation back on the ship, and turned their attention to a smaller nearby volcanic island. Approaching cautiously, they discovered that it had no inhabitants, and they were able to land and find a stream without being molested. However, the warriors of the larger island rowed their outrigger canoes close by, and arrows from long bows discouraged them from initiating an attack. Whilst some sailors had the onerous job of filling water barrels and transporting them back to _Nymeria,_ other explored the island, finding fresh fruit and killing a few goats for fresh meat, a welcome addition to their now hated limited diet. 

Three weeks later, the lookout sang out “Land ho!” again, and those rushing to the bow saw in the distance a long, low, blurry, bluish-grey landmass above the waterline, the indication of a vast continent extending in front of them, almost encompassing the entire eastern horizon. The watch on deck began to whoop with excitement, and an old tar ran below to fetch his fiddle. He started to play a jig and the sea dogs danced and sang ‘The Sailor’s Hornpipe’. Wyl was so excited that he grabbed Arya, spun her around, and attempted to kiss her on the lips, blurting out, “I want to kiss a princess for good luck!”

Arya pushed him away, snarling, “Get your fucking tongue out of my mouth!” 

Alyn was even more foolish, and when he copied Wyl’s actions, she blackened his eye and stalked away fuming, “Stupid men!” 

When everyone had calmed down and those on deck contentedly stared at the welcome sight in the distance, Captain Saan grinned at Arya, “Well, milady, I wonder where we are!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have been using more sailing terminology and expect readers to look up unfamiliar words. Yes, I am being mean. I’m a retired teacher.
> 
> Next: Where is _Nymeria_ now?
> 
> "The Sailor’s Hornpipe" – are you curious? One example: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_XYC6FwEFr0


	9. A New World?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The crew of _Nymeria_ encounter another continent, but where are they now?

Previously: 

Three weeks later, the lookout sang out “Land ho!” again, and those rushing to the bow saw in the distance a long, low, blurry, bluish-grey landmass above the waterline, the indication of a vast continent extending in front of them, almost encompassing the entire eastern horizon. The watch on deck began to whoop with excitement, and an old tar ran below to fetch his fiddle. He started to play a jig and the sea dogs danced and sang ‘The Sailor’s Hornpipe’. Wyl was so excited that he grabbed Arya, spun her around, and attempted to kiss her on the lips, blurting out, “I want to kiss a princess for good luck!”

Arya pushed him away, snarling, “Get your fucking tongue out of my mouth!” 

Alyn was even more foolish, and when he copied Wyl’s actions, she blackened his eye and stalked away fuming, “Stupid men!” 

When everyone had calmed down and those on deck contentedly stared at the welcome sight in the distance, Captain Saan grinned at Arya, “Well, milady, I wonder where we are!”

\-------------------

_Nymeria’s_ mariners were all excited about the continent spotted in the distance, but as Wyl and Alyn and the other members of their off-duty watch came up on deck to sit around, chat, and whittle, they immediately became concerned with the scene that greeted them. Milady was on deck, but gone was the pretty Northern princess in a silk robe with loose, flowing hair, and with the demure, accessible, and sweet personality that Lanna had coaxed her to exhibit. Instead, a grim-faced ‘No One the Faceless Man’ awaited them in the open area before the main mast, dressed in her warrior leathers, her hair severely pulled back into a tight bun, and swinging a practice blade to test its balance and loosen up her muscles. 

She glared at Wyl and forcefully threw a practice sword in his direction, sternly barking at the nervous sailor, “Prepare to defend yourself!” whilst planting her feet and raising her sword to eye level. Wyl also raised his sword and took a defensive position, but before he could even blink, the she-wolf was upon him, her weapon a blur of movement that he could not avoid, and he found himself desperately parrying her attacking blade and moving backwards, constantly taking hits to the arms, thighs, and torso. Wyl bounced off the mast right into the blunt point of her wooden sword and lost his breath for a moment, and then was whacked in the ribs which caused him to stumble. Arya smacked him on the other side of his chest to prevent him from falling down and proceeded to continue her assault on selected areas of his body which were now feeling abused and in pain. As her unfortunate victim tried to evade the skilled woman warrior’s blows and avoid further punishment, he found himself panting and rapidly losing energy. Still, none of the ferocious wolf girl’s strikes were intended to knock him to the deck, and Wyl realized that she was simply _toying_ with him, battering him about but not finishing him off quickly and mercifully. 

The chastened sailor finally ended up with his back on the hard, unforgiving deck, sweating profusely and wheezing through his teeth, but the fierce she-wolf barely had a bead of sweat on her forehead and was not even breathing hard. She put a foot on his chest and pressed down almost painfully on it, leaned over his face, and loudly demanded, “Do you yield?!” 

Beaten and humiliated, Wyl gasped, “Aye, milady, I do! No more, please!”

Arya stood up straight and removed her foot from his chest, spitting out angrily, “The next time you dare to become familiar with me, you will lose a few fingers! Rise now and return to your duties.” Humbled, Wyl painfully rose from the boards, and as he hurriedly walked away, she smacked him smartly on the arse with the flat of her blade. Then she turned to Alyn, narrowed her dangerous eyebrows, ordered him to come closer, and held out Wyl’s practice sword. Having no choice, Alyn took it and in seconds was subject to the same brutal treatment that Wyl had received. Soon he was sorely beaten into submission and meekly yielded to his lady, muttering that in the future he would always show her the respect she deserved. 

The other sailors who had witnessed the sparring session were also suitably impressed and in awe of milady, and unfortunately, some were now in love with the ‘warrior goddess’ and had visions of her, twirling gracefully with her weapons, in their dreams. This was not exactly the response Arya desired, but these lonely sailors had had too few experiences with women to not be entranced by so lovely and formidable a lass as their attractive leader. Captain Saan, who was worldlier than the common tars, found their attitude to be amusing, and teased Arya that several of the men prayed to her image. Arya snorted and rolled her eyes, retorting, “Fucking men!”

\-------------------

_Nymeria_ approached the unknown continent and Captain Saan chose to sail to the south, parallel to the uninhabited shoreline, hoping to spy a port. The captain had been carefully studying his charts, but any knowledge of the east coast of Essos was not well documented, and he was not at all sure where they were, or even if they _had_ reached Essos. Eventually they found a harbor, pulled up to the docks, and tied the ship to a pier. Renwick saw a group of longshoremen unloading cargo from a nearby ship, and began shouting out greetings in various languages, until to his surprise, a voice answered in the Common Tongue. Renwick and Captain Saan went down on the dock to exchange words with the stevedore, who called out to his foreman that he was taking a break. Delighted that the man was willing to talk to them, Renwick offered him a swig from his flask of rum. After sampling a dram and wiping his lips, he appeared most pleased, and volunteered that he had not tasted any rum in years and had missed the flavor.

The longshoreman introduced himself as Mollono, a Volantene sailor, who had not been home to the western part of Essos in a long time, and confirmed that, yes, they had reached said continent. Renwick shouted this information to his shipmates waiting in suspense on deck, and they set up a whoop of pleasure. 

Mollono told them that the city’s name was Carcosa, and the captain frowned. He couldn’t remember the details, but vaguely recalled that it was said to be on the very edge of the world and not the most desirable place to visit. The dockworker explained that the city was ruled by a sorcerer lord who claimed that he was thousands of years old and had been an emperor of the wealthy and vast kingdom of Yi Ti, located further west in Essos. Renwick repeated, “Sorcerer lord? Thousands of years old?” Mollono rolled his eyes and said that he was probably mad, as there were many mad people in Carcosa. He added that it was rumored that the sorcerer lord had been expelled for practicing the dark arts, and he was plotting to regain his throne with magic. 

It was fortunate that they had met Mollono, for at that moment the harbormaster arrived, and Arya and Captain Saan were required to discuss and pay the docking fee, and having a sympathetic interpreter was useful. As the captain and the wolf princess made inquiries about resupplying the ship, they granted limited shore leave to the off-duty watches of the crew, requiring the men to stay close to the ship, and prepared to spend a comfortable night safely tied up to the wharf.

All that day and the next, between their working shifts, _Nymeria’s_ sailors took advantage of the pubs and brothels along the quay, especially a cozy alehouse called ‘The Yellow Sign’, located directly across the quay from _Nymeria_. 

After speaking to the harbormaster, Arya and Captain Saan entered into negotiations with a local ship chandler for foodstuffs, potable water, and dry goods. Gold is gold everywhere, and Arya’s dragons were exchanged for enough necessaries to fill _Nymeria’s_ hold. Both leaders watched as the stevedores delivered the merchandise and the seamen lowered the supplies below decks through the hatches. They were pleased with the quality of the food purchased, and after two days, when the bulk of their goods had been stored away, Arya decided to follow the captain’s suggestion and hold a celebration. 

\-------------------

Leaving only a few members of the duty watch onboard the ship in the safeguarded harbor, the entire crew gathered at ‘The Yellow Sign’, where they were served refreshing local ale, stout, and delicious snacks, including fresh fruit and small loaves of sweet bread. Arya wisely limited herself to watered wine, as she had no desire to become inebriated and lose control. Things never went well during the few occasions that she had become drunk. She was attired in her severe fighting leathers again, as she now believed that her men thought of her as a vulnerable maiden whenever she wore her silk robes. She sighed, thinking, _if Lanna was here, I would wear silks, but not for these rough seamen. Hmm, Gendry will like seeing me in my silks; I must remember to pack them in my personal sea chest._

The wolf princess led off the toasts, complementing the men for bravely sailing through dangerous and unknown waters at her behest, and returning _Nymeria_ within reach of the territories that had been surveyed by Westerosi mapmakers. She smiled broadly and announced, “I believe that we are the first voyagers to prove that there is no ‘Edge of the World’, but that the world is _round!_ ” 

Renwick stood up next, raised his tankard, and loudly exclaimed, “I toast to our bold wolf princess for conceiving of this expedition, which has been the most exciting journey of my life!” The agreeable sailors concurred with Renwick and raised their tankards, shouting approval. Pleasant hours passed as they reveled, and some sailors began to reminisce about the voyage, or even sentimentally recount the people they would be eager to see when they returned to Westeros or the Free Cities. Ser Davos and Captain Saan had chosen mature men with no immediate families to mourn for them if they disappeared into the unknown, but most had old friends, lovers, siblings, and nieces and nephews, who would welcome them back and would be eager to hear their tales.

Finally Captain Saan stood up, still somewhat coherent, but deep enough into his cups to loosen his tongue, and banged forcefully on the table with his tankard until he had gained the complete attention of the carousing crew. With a broad smile on his face, he proclaimed, “Gentlemen, and I use that term loosely, we have done an amazing thing and will be feted by awestruck mariners when _Nymeria_ returns to her home port, but our journey is not over, as we still have a _mission_ to complete!” 

Those who were listening closely appeared puzzled, and Hargrove spoke for them, “A _mission,_ captain? What do you mean?”

Captain Saan grinned and lowered his eyes to Arya, who was seated next to him, “Milady is going to be angry with me, but I need to speak of this matter. When the wolf princess came aboard, some of you may have known her identity, some even knew that she slew the Night King and saved the world, and some of you, based on her attire, may not have known that she was a woman, but assumed she was a wealthy young nobleman, intent on an adventure at sea. But there was more to milady’s story than her humorless gaze, cold demeanor, soldier’s boiled leathers, and dangerous weapons.”

Two score and three pairs of quizzical eyes set in weathered faces were fixed on Arya during his dramatic pause. The wolf girl looked distinctly ill at ease, but just pursed her lips in silence.

“Following the Battle of the Long Night,” the captain continued, “a handsome young nobleman, the proud lord of one of the seven Great Houses of Westeros, proposed to our lovely princess. He was not just an ambitious suitor, but a close friend who was deeply in love with her and had been besotted with her for years, and he had every reason to believe that she returned his ardor. However, our adventurous lass swiftly rejected his ardent request that she become his wife and the lady of his castle and kingdom, and immediately fled, not even speaking a word to him at the Dragonpit or before setting sail on _Nymeria._ ” 

Every jaw dropped as the sailors stared at Arya, totally confused. Renwick called out to break the shocked silence, “Captain, you said we have a mission?”

Captain Saan smiled, “Aye. I am certain that the young lord has refused all attempts to wed him to daughters of other Houses, both Great and small, and he is patiently waiting for milady to return to Westeros, when he will repeat the question.” Then he addressed Arya, “Princess, your answer will be in the affirmative this time. Am I correct?”

Arya’s face reddened and she kept her eyes lowered, and as every pair of ears in ‘The Yellow Sign’ strained to hear her answer, she replied as softly as possible, “Aye.”

“There you have it, shipmates!” Captain Saan declared, “Our mission is to safely transport this blushing maiden back to Westeros where her betrothed is eager to wed and bed her!”

A tremendous cheer shook the ceiling of the common room and tankards were clinked together in affirmation of romance as ale was sloshed everywhere. Even the tavern regulars, who had been listening intently to the conversation from their tables along the walls, joined in the applause, shouting, and toasting, and curious passers-by stuck their heads in the doorway, only to be offered tankards of ale. There were calls of “A passel of pups for the she-wolf!” “Long live Lady Arya and her fortunate betrothed!” “I want to attend this wedding!” and of course, “Seven hells, I want to attend the _bedding!_ ”

A beaming Captain Saan sat down and smirked at Arya, who punched him solidly on his arm and accused, “You really embarrassed me!”

The captain grinned, “Was anything I said untrue? And you _do_ intend to seek out Lord Baratheon, right?”

Arya was still demurely blushing, “Nae, you spoke the truth. And my friend Lanna Otherys did order me to ‘find that boy!’ as she put it.”

Jovial shipmates were approaching to personally congratulate her, and Arya announced loudly, “I’ll shake your hand, but if _any_ of you arseholes tries to hug or kiss me, I will stick you with the pointy end!” 

Her statement elicited general laughter and the celebration continued for some time. Even some of the Carcosi sailors present came forward to congratulate her and say that she was a right beautiful lass and her intended was one lucky fellow. 

\-------------------

As the captain, the first mate, and Arya leisurely supervised the final loading of required supplies, off-duty sailors were still allowed shore leave. That pattern abruptly changed on the fifth afternoon in the harbor of Carcosa when an old tar by the name of Gerris exited ‘The Yellow Sign’, despondently crying, “I shall never see my home again!” Gerris threw himself over the wharf and into the harbor, and Alyn jumped in and rescued him. The ship’s surgeon sedated the dejected seafarer with rum and his shipmates observed him whilst he snored in his hammock. 

A suspicious Captain Saan checked his old logbooks, precious items he carried from ship to ship during his long career as a mariner, and he found a note he wrote long ago about a rumors of Carcosa: something odd about the place would often drive unsuspecting foreigners to despair and madness. He advised Arya that they should set sail on the morning tide and the wolf princess canceled further shore leave immediately, not without some complaints. 

Mollono learned of the commotion at the tavern and came aboard to confirm the captain’s reservations. He told them that if any sailor accidentally imbibed a unique local liquor brewed from a desert plant, the mezcal cactus, and flavored with mescal buttons, they would suffer alarming delusions and mayhaps attempt to hurt themselves in their despondency. Captain Saan did not want to chance any more dangerous situations, and as they had completely resupplied, it was time to move on. He thanked Mollono, and Arya gifted him with a small jeweled dagger from her trade pouch for all his assistance. Mollono touched two fingers to his forehead and wished milady good fortune on the rest of her voyage, before heading down the gangplank.

\-------------------

Captain Saan steered _Nymeria_ southwards along the unfamiliar eastern coast of Essos, seeing nothing remarkable for several days until the landscape began to fall off to starboard. Eventually he called to a lounging sailor and ordered, “Give my compliments to milady and ask her to come to the wheel at her convenience.” Soon Arya approached the stern and the captain smiled and pointed to the binnacle. “Look, princess, our heading is almost due west. We are following the southern coast of Essos now and soon we will be able to follow _Nymeria’s_ progress on our charts.” 

Arya returned his smile and replied, “So we are truly on the way home.” She sighed, “Now that our return is a reality, I wonder what awaits us.”

The captain grinned surreptitiously, “I’ll wager that when we dock at King’s Landing, Ser Davos will be waiting with a steed to carry you to Storm’s End.”

The wolf girl favored her shipmate with a suspicious expression, “And I suppose that you are involved in this plot?”

The captain chuckled, “After all we have been through, there is nothing I would like to see more than you being embraced by the strong arms of an adoring young man.” 

Arya blushed faintly and murmured, “I admit that I yearn to see Gendry again. Mayhaps my thirst for adventure has been quenched.”

After checking his bearings and assessing the direction of the wind that filled the sails, Captain Saan looked at her shrewdly, “We have had an interesting voyage, and you will always value the memories, but you are only a few years removed from childhood and have much more to accomplish during your lifetime. You have already been an influential woman, young wolf, and I suspect that you will still have an impact in Westeros. I believe your lord father even told you that.”

Lady Stark smiled at the memory of her loving father imaging her future life as the wife of a high lord of a Great House, and replied, “Aye. Not exactly in those words, but I think his intentions were the same.” 

The captain nodded, “And look at it this way, milady. If you get the urge to return to sea, _Nymeria_ can carry you and your family on another adventure.”

Arya’s face brightened at his remark and took on a faraway gaze, “I have always hoped that I could someday visit my brother Jon, who lives in the far North amongst the wildlings. Wouldn’t he be surprised if I did just that!” 

Returning a fond smile at the sight of her delighted expression, Captain Saan suggested as he stepped back from the conn, “Milady, would you like to take the wheel for a spell? I believe you are in the mood to command the ship.”

Nodding her head in assent, the happy adventurer agreed, moving to take his former position, “Aye, I would certainly enjoying steering _Nymeria_ at this moment.”

“The helm is yours,” the experienced navigator replied, before going below for some refreshment, “Maintain a bearing of about 265 degrees, and if the wind shifts to the southeast, have the duty watch adjust the sails. The watch will change in two hours, and when you hear eight bells, you will be relieved of your task.”

Arya nodded, but her countenance appeared distracted as her mind reflected on home. Still, she was experienced enough a sailor to guide the ship properly even if her thoughts were elsewhere. The sounds of the waves crashing upon the bow and the wind flapping the sails relaxed her and helped her maintain a good disposition, and the view of the unknown shoreline off to starboard excited her imagination. She thought of Gendry pounding a sword with his hammer in a forge somewhere and was contented.

\-------------------

After cruising along the southern coast of Essos for one turn of the moon, Captain Saan observed a new shape looming off to port ahead of them. As the land mass grew larger and the available water for leeway narrowed, he studied his charts closely and called for Arya to join him. The captain tapped on a narrow body of water between two land masses and said, “I believe that we are entering the Saffron Straits. Off to port is the large island of Ulthos, and the Shadow Lands of Essos are off to starboard. The Straits will narrow until we approach the mysterious sorcerers’ city of Asshai, and at that point we will enter the Jade Sea and more familiar waters."

 _Nymeria_ sailed into the Straits, and leaning over the portside rail with the glass to her eye, Arya observed that Ulthos was nothing but a dark, impenetrable jungle. The vegetation was beyond green, a purple-black color, and she could not see any detail. The curious wolf girl was frustrated, knowing that Captain Saan had heard only hazy travelers’ tales: the unusual jungle contained plants and animals seen nowhere else in the world, and few Westerosi had even landed there. However, they had been warned that encounters with the inhabitants had been unpleasant. 

The view to the north, from the starboard rail of the ship, was more interesting. Along the southern coast of Essos she spied the fabled fields of ghost grass, located at the base of the mountains of the Shadow Lands, and extending all the way to Asshai. By day the stalks appear a pale pink color, but ghost grass glows with a luminescent milky color by moonlight. Ghost grass grows as tall as a man on horseback, and chokes out any other vegetation near it. The Dothraki said that it was inedible and claimed the world would end when ghost grass filled the entire world and killed all the other plants. They also believed that the evil warlocks of Qarth were responsible for the spread of ghost grass.

Soon _Nymeria_ sailed past the smaller island of Ulos in the middle of the Saffron Straits, and Arya observed that it was also covered with a dense jungle. Captain Saan remarked that the ship would soon arrive at Asshai, but he was hesitant to seek a berth in the harbor. Asshai was known for magic and magicians, and inhabited by exotic people who spoke a unique language mainly used for powerful magic spells. To support his opinion, the captain mentioned the mysterious shadowbinder, Quaithe of Asshai, who had spoken to Queen Daenerys Targaryen, offering her questionable advice and making her choices more difficult. After Carcosa, Captain Saan was loath to encounter any more troubled ports. 

Beyond Asshai, at the end of the narrow peninsula bearing the high mountains of the Shadow Lands, _Nymeria_ entered the Jade Sea and changed her course to the northwest, towards the kingdom of Yi Ti. To the Westerosi, this land represented the far eastern edge of the known world, and was also exotic, with dense jungles and strange animals, but for hundreds of years the Yi Tish had transformed much of the tropical rain forest into rich farmland. The nation itself was quite wealthy and the culture was thousands of years old, with a written history reaching far into the past. 

\-------------------

_Nymeria_ avoided Yin, the major seaport of Yi Ti, with its high dockage fees, but instead pulled alongside a wharf in the harbor of Leng Ma, a city on the western shore of Leng, the large island to the south of Yi Ti. Most of Leng was covered by dense forest, and its inhabited areas had been colonized by the Yi Tish, after they killed or enslaved the original inhabitants. 

Arya went ashore with Renwick and Hargrove to explore the fascinating marketplace of Leng Ma, with goods from all over the Far East. She observed Yi Tish merchants in their distinctive monkey-tail hats selling piles of precious saffron, a vibrant reddish-orange spice, the kingdom’s most famous export. Wise old Renwick explained that saffron is rare and very expensive, adding a strong and delicious flavor to grains, but can only be savored by the very wealthy. It is a sign of prestige if one uses it. Saffron is delicate and perishable, and shipping it from such a faraway land is very costly. The highly-regarded spice is more valuable than gold by the time it reaches Westeros.

Suddenly there was a great deal of shouting originating from a nearby stall, and panicked people started running in scattered directions. It was a contrived disturbance, though, and whilst Renwick and Hargrove were distracted, Arya was kidnapped with a knock on the head. The wolf girl regained consciousness in a large pavilion, and as her head cleared, she found herself facing a short round man, as plump as he was tall, wearing a purple turban secured over his forehead with the biggest emerald she had ever seen, reclining on a pile of soft, silk-covered pillows. This strange little man was being fed luscious purple grapes one at a time by a scantily clad female child, who called him ‘Pasha Jamal’. Jamal had small, glittering, lecherous eyes, and was clean-shaven except for a small pointed goatee and mustachios that ended in points. He was being fanned by two large slaves with gold collars around their necks. 

Arya slowly awakened and felt a throbbing pain at the back of her head where a club had struck her. Looking down, she realized that her leathers and weapons were gone, and she was wearing loose, gossamer sky blue silk pantaloons that only rose as high as her hips, and her navel was exposed. Her midriff was also bare and her bosom was barely contained within a small sky blue silk halter top that revealed much of the upper curves of her breasts and deep cleavage. Arya’s hair was brushed out loosely and covered with diaphanous blue veils, and her small feet were encased in a pair of delicate silver dancing slippers that narrowed to a point and curled up and backwards. _Not exactly the best footwear for running,_ she thought. Arya noticed that the small man was surrounded by about six lovely young women dressed exactly as she was, but in a variety of bright colors, plus several evil-looking guards with long curved blades at their hips. 

Observing that Arya was awake, Pasha Jamal smiled and exclaimed, “Ah! Our pale Westerosi beauty has joined us. Welcome to Leng Ma, princess! You will be a splendid addition to my harem, and I look forward to ravishing your sweet body tonight. As an introduction to your culture, I would like to see your charming figure demonstrate a native dance of your country.”

Glaring at her ‘host’, Arya angrily retorted, “Fuck you! I don’t know who you are and I am not dancing for you!” Crossing her arms over her chest belligerently, she tried to glance around the large tent to ascertain how many enemies she would have to fight and how they were armed, but her senses were still too clouded to be dependable.

Pasha Jamal merely shrugged and replied, “Suit yourself, girl, but know that if you do not dance for me, this will be your servant’s last day among the living.” He jerked his head to the right and Arya saw a huge, unsmiling ebony soldier holding a long, wicked-looking blade to Renwick’s throat, and the old sailor’s eyes were wide and pleading. Arya considered for a moment and began to perform a variety of graceful water dance sequences that seemed to please Jamal, as his hungry eyes followed her movements closely. Arya looked to see if she could snatch a sword from one of the many guards in the tent, but it was simply not possible. To her embarrassment, and the delight of the leering Pasha, a swift twirl caused one of her small but luscious breasts to flop out of the loose halter top and bounce for a moment. She hastily stuffed the teat back into its cup as Jamal clapped his hands and exclaimed, “Wonderful! Do that again!” 

Arya realized that every male eye present had been focused on her at that moment, which proved to be very beneficial, for suddenly Captain Saan, Hargrove, and a score of Nymeria’s seamen burst into the pavilion, shouting and waving cutlasses, milling everywhere and disrupting the scene. The harem girls started screaming and running around in a panic, and the Pasha’s guards could not effectively counter the sailors. The Captain grabbed Arya and threw her over his shoulder, shouted, “Now!” and the crewman quickly withdrew, racing back to the ship and safety. 

Approaching the harbor again, Captain Saan set Arya on her feet, apologizing for the indignity of being carried, but the wolf girl just shrugged. First Mate Randyll spoke to her, “Milady, that was a very clever ruse to bare a breast and center the attention on you just before the rescue. Did you anticipate or know of our attack?”

Arya shook her head, “Nae, it was simply a coincidence.”

“Coincidence or not,” Randyll replied, “it was a bold stroke that was very effective. I was mesmerized, as were the pasha’s guards, but we still had the advantage of surprise.”

“Regardless,” Arya snorted, “I am _not_ going to flash my teats every time we need to surprise pirates!”

Captain Saan laughed, “And why not? Apparently it is a successful technique!”

Arya huffed and refused to continue in that manner, but just strode purposefully in the direction of the dock.

When they were safely aboard and a watch had been set, Captain Saan explained that when she had been attacked, Hargrove had been able to melt into the crowd and follow her kidnappers. Once he learned where she was being held, he ran back to the ship for reinforcements. Arya was thankful and said, “I am grateful for your prompt action, Captain, as there was a chance they might have killed poor Renwick anyway. I am only forlorn for I fear that I have lost Needle and Cat’s Paw.”

Now Hallis came forward with a pile of goods and volunteered, “No need to fret, milady. During the confusion, I saw your personal things carelessly thrown into a corner of the tent and scooped them up before we fled.” He handed Arya her leathers and her two precious weapons.

Arya flashed a huge smile and impulsively kissed Hallis on the cheek, and as the humble sailor blushed, she exclaimed, “Oh, Hallis! Thank you! I am indebted to you! I would hate to lose these blades!” 

“In that case, princess, may I make a request?” Hallis shyly replied.

“And what would that be, sailor?” the appreciative wolf-girl asked.

“Er, would you not change out of that garb until nightfall, milady?”

Arya glanced around the deck and realized that every man present was staring hungrily at her harem costume. She blushed, but reluctantly replied, “All right. I suppose I owe it to you,” and all the sailors smiled.

Hallis touched two fingers to his forehead and said, ‘Thank you, milady, you have made my day.”

Just then Wyl piped up, “I know what else would make your day, shipmate. I notice that you have tucked the princess’ silk smallclothes into your pocket. Did you intend to keep them?”

With bright red ears and cheeks, Hallis snatched the delicate smallclothes from his pocket and quickly presented them to Arya, who was smirking at his embarrassment, “Nae, I simply forgot about them. Here you are, milady.”

Arya took all her clothes and weapons and turned to bring them to her cabin, but not before hearing one sailor mournfully mutter, “I was hoping for a dance, too. It would have been nice to see the princess shaking her tight little arse.”

The conservative Northern lass was true to her word, though, and still attired in the harem ensemble, returned to the deck at eight bells to observe the change in the watch. She remained near the wheel conversing with Captain Saan until dusk, when she realized that the dropping temperatures had caused her teats to become stiff and pointed, and every old sea dog was well aware of this fact. She gave her respects to the captain and went below. Wyl turned to his shipmate Alyn and sighed whilst shaking his head, “Milady is a vision, is she not?”

Alyn smiled, “There has never been a voyage like this one, and I doubt there will ever be another so interesting. For all our troubles, I am glad I came aboard.”

\-------------------

After relating this last adventure to her captivated husband, Arya jumped out of bed and ran to her weathered old sea chest, pulling the harem costume out and saying, “See? I brought this home. Now turn away and I will don it for you.” The garments did not fit as well as they had in Leng Ma, for the new bride now possessed an obvious babe bump, and her bosom was expanding with her pregnancy. 

Gendry inspected her outfit and figure appreciatively and grinned, “Will you dance for me?” 

Arya approached him on the bed and repeated the graceful water dancing moves that had so entertained Pasha Jamal. Gendry’s eyes were wide and he obviously appreciated her dance, following every movement as she performed. Finally Arya came even closer to lean over him and shook her bosom in his face. Unexpectedly, one teat escaped the halter top and that was all Gendry needed, for he quickly attacked her breasts, as he was already greatly aroused. This action led to a bout of intense lovemaking, and the items of the outfit soon ended up in the far corners of the room. Although the lord’s chambers were on top of the thick-walled Drum Tower, the young couple’s cries of pleasure could be heard several levels lower in the castle, and servants informed the kitchen staff that their nobles were at it again. 

The early morning bread bakers smiled at the news and snickered as they kneaded the dough, “Our lord and lady are quite active tonight!” The young highborns were favorites of Mistress Marra and her understaff, as the she-wolf craved sweets and the newlyweds usually went to the kitchen to get away from the pressures of lordship, sitting around the work table eating and chatting familiarly with the scullions. Lady Arya would keep her restless hands busy stirring pots or peeling turnips if asked, and powerful Lord Gendry fetched heavy sacks of flour or potatoes from the larder. The handsome youths were also so much in love that they could scarcely keep their hands off of each other even when in public, and in the kitchens they were even more unconsciously intimate, causing the younger scullions to giggle constantly. The Baratheon household was already excited because one heir was already on the way, and this night an older baker smirked, “Aye, if milady does not bear a half dozen babes before they tire of lovemaking, I would be surprised.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GRRM does not describe the east coast of Essos at all, so I have taken the name of a city he mentions in eastern Essos and placed it on the coast. Carcosa, Leng, and Yi Ti are strange and mysterious imaginary cities discussed in the early weird and fantastic fiction of Ambrose Bierce and H.P. Lovecraft, and their inclusion in “ASoIaF” was meant to be a tribute to these authors. Robert Chambers, another weird author, wrote about madness and “The Yellow Sign” and the “King in Yellow” long ago.
> 
> Gerris had a bad trip on the hallucinogen mescaline.
> 
> Arya’s harem girl outfit is sort of modeled after Jasmine in Aladdin. The sequence was presented in humorous homage to the totally stupid and gratuitous “Princess Leia and her metal bikini” scene at the beginning of the second Star Wars movie. 
> 
> I like writing ‘tales of seafarers’ and hope that you enjoy the figments of my imagination.
> 
> Thank you for reading and commenting!


	10. Qarth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _Nymeria_ approaches the Summer Sea. Arya explores Qarth.
> 
> If you have been following and enjoying this story, let me apologize for the recent infrequent updates. It is summer; I have been traveling and have limited time to write. I have also been working on “Would a Brother…?” and my goal is to get one chapter of each posted every two weeks until life returns to normal.
> 
> As I uploaded this chapter, I could not help but reflect on my disappointment with Maisie William’s comments at San Diego Comic Con yesterday. Sitting on a panel, she was asked if Arya and Gendry would ever get together and she answered, no, Arya was a lone wolf and would never have a partner. I would have hoped to hear her suggest that an older Arya, who definitely loves her family, would want a normal life. The Hound practically ordered her to seek out Gendry. Maisie is 22 years old and obviously enjoys having relationships herself. I don’t see why she would say that Arya did not need love. 
> 
> In any case, Gendrya has been around since 2012 and the original fan fiction stories are mainly based on GRRM’s works, and at this point the window is still open for Arya and Gendry to meet up again. I will try not to think about Maisie’s opinion as I write and read.

Previously:

 _Nymeria_ avoided Yin, the major seaport of Yi Ti, with its high dockage fees, but instead pulled alongside a wharf in the harbor of Leng Ma, a city on the western shore of Leng, the large island to the south of Yi Ti. Most of Leng was covered by dense forest, and its inhabited areas had been colonized by the Yi Tish, after they killed or enslaved the original inhabitants. 

\-------------------

Following the rescue of the intended harem girl from the clutches of the nefarious lecher Pasha Jamal, _Nymeria_ immediately set out to sea again to avoid any repercussions for the invasion of his pavilion. Captain Saan ventured that he had no idea what kind of influence the rich pasha had with the local government, and since they were merely transient sailors, there was no reason to stick around and find out. The wolf princess was still put out by her abduction, and would have loved to return to the tent with her weapons unsheathed and severed a few heads, but the captain vetoed her request. 

Leaving the isle of Leng, _Nymeria_ set a westward course through the Jade Sea, with Qarth as the next destination. Qarth was the nearest city that the captain was familiar with, but it was still quite far to the west of Leng, and _Nymeria_ required several weeks of sailing to reach it. Fortunately, the voyage was uneventful, but arriving in Qarth was exciting, as the famous port city was said to be the center of the world and known for trade, having a huge bazaar with goods on display from all over the world.

Qarth was the most eastern destination for typical travelers in Essos, whether overland or by ship, and was located at the Jade Gates, a narrow body of water between the continent of Essos and the large island of Great Moraq. Qarth demanded a high toll payment for merchant vessels to travel through the Gates, as it was a long trip around Great Moraq otherwise. Once through the Jade Gates, a ship from the Jade Sea entered the Summer Sea and had access to Slaver’s Bay, the Free Cities, and eventually Westeros. The Qartheen enforced their control of the Jade Gates with a fleet of war galleys and fortified harbor cities on either side of the small island of Qal in middle of the Gates. Since _Nymeria_ was not a merchant ship and carried little cargo, the fee was not exorbitant when they entered the harbor and docked at the quay. 

Arya was eager to visit the bazaar and see all the unusual wares, as the marketplace was famous for the distribution of saffron, dreamwine, spiced liqueurs, silk, spices, and elephants. The wolf girl was amazed by elephants, having only seen a handful of small ones that Golden Company had brought to Westeros, and none had survived the battles. The bazaar was housed in a huge building, so large that trees and flowers grew inside of it, and a multitude of brightly colored birds lived in the high, latticework ceiling.

The city itself was impressive for tourists. The triple walls of Qarth, thirty, forty, and fifty feet high respectively, and engraved with images, were said to be one of the nine wonders of the world. The red sandstone outer wall was covered with images of animals, the grey granite middle one with war scenes, and the inner black marble one with depictions of lovemaking scenes so intimate that Arya felt compelled to blush and look away, causing citizens to smirk at the discomfited foreigner. Within the wealthy city, the buildings were colorfully decorated, and there were many tall, slim towers. Each of the numerous public squares displayed an elaborate fountain in the shape of a fanciful creature. Travelers were directed to the great arcade of heroes of the city, who were represented by bronze statues, each on the top of a tall marble column, and three times the size of a natural man. 

\-------------------

Arya quickly noted that the Qartheen preferred to ride camels rather than horses, and the spirited Northern girl was fascinated by the surly and haughty beasts and wanted to mount one, having always loved riding compliant horses. She was likewise intrigued by the camel drovers; men who traditionally wore layers of loose robes and a head covering that hid all their facial features except the eyes. The unique outfit was said to keep them cool in the hot sun and prevent dust and sand from entering their mouths whilst leading caravans through the wilderness to the cities on Slavers Bay. 

As Arya approached the wary creature, considering how best to mount it, the local guide snickered behind the scarf that hid his mouth. Renwick had been paying attention and translated his words roughly as “The wench should stretch out her thigh muscles first,” then he paused and blushed, “whilst I watch her lovely arse.” 

The shapely maiden had begun stretching with her legs spread wide and was bent over at the waist to touch the ground. Shaking her head at his impertinence, she snorted, “Men!” The she-wolf then moved to mount the camel, grasping the handlebar and throwing her leg _way_ over its hump and attempted to settle into the saddle. She quickly learned that it was difficult to get comfortable riding on the hump of a camel, and even shifting her position frequently did not make her posture feel any better. The guide _did_ seem to approve of her leather outfit and boots, as the stiff, wooly camel fur could irritate the skin. 

Arya became aware of the camel’s gentle rocking back and forth and side to side motion as she rode. The guide advised that she try not to resist the motion and remain stiffly upright in the saddle, but to sway _with_ the camel. “Relax your body and breathe deeply,” he suggested, his eyes glued to Arya’s swelling bosom as she followed his orders, and he grinned, “Do not relax _too_ much or you will become sleepy and fall off! Hold the handlebar on the front of the saddle firmly at all times.” 

When Arya became accustomed to the motion of the unusual beast, she held the handlebar with one hand and placed her other hand behind the seat and found that she had better balance as the camel’s motion rocked her. Finding balance was an exercise she had practiced since her first water dancing lessons, and she found that it was useful for riding a camel. The guide took them into the desert outside of Qarth for a few hours, and even Renwick almost became comfortable as a camel rider. 

However, she was still aching from the extension of rarely challenged muscles when it was all over, and she had to stretch her inner thigh muscles again after dismounting, aware of the guide’s eyes following her figure. _What **is** it with men?!_ she pondered, _has he never seen a woman’s arse before?!_ The discomfort that the wolf princess felt so close to her groin reminded her of the night of shared intimacy with Gendry on the grain sacks in Winterfell, and once again, she was confused about her feelings for the steadfast youth who had wanted to devote his life to her.

\-------------------

Arya and her crew members continued to explore the fascinating city and soon rumors of the presence of the ‘Light Bringer of Westeros’ spread throughout the population. The first Long Night had affected Essos thousands of years ago, and the Battle for Winterfell was even discussed as far away as Qarth. Xaro Xhoan Daxos, an extremely wealthy and high ranking representative of the powerful merchant guild, the ‘Thirteen’, desired to meet the Princess of the North and invited her to his elaborate palace, which was larger than a market town. 

When Arya arrived in her habitual leathers, she was advised to follow protocol and dress in the Qartheen custom consisting of a long linen gown with one breast exposed. She became annoyed and grumbled, “Why does _everyone_ want to see my breasts?!” Palace handmaidens bearing the proper attire for her to wear snickered and lowered their eyes when they heard her bold remark. With a commanding wave of her hand, the impatient wolf girl declared, “I am _not_ changing my clothes! Just lead me to this glorified shopkeeper!”

In the luxuriously-appointed Great Hall of his elaborate palace, Xaro Xhoan Daxos awaited, wearing the distinctive vestments of his station. Similar to the opulent decorations of the chamber, Xaro’s neck, wrists, and fingers were adorned with gold jewelry, his feet sported golden sandals, precious gemstones embellished the multiple piercings of his nose, and his pale silk skirt was beaded along the bottom so that it swished and jangled as he walked. After Captain Saan presided over the formal introductions, Xaro eyed the modest garments of the warrior maiden and curiously enquired, “My lady, why are you not properly attired for court?” 

Staring defiantly at the merchant prince in response, Arya snapped, “My lord, I prefer that you look at my eyes, not my teats!” 

Having previously met the imperious _khaleesi,_ Daenerys Targaryen, Xaro laughed, “Are _all_ you Westerosi women so stubborn and willful?” 

Arya narrowed her eyes and her prominent eyebrows formed a ‘V’, as she irritably replied, “Aye, from what I know of the dragon queen, she had as little patience for aurochs shite as I do!” 

Xaro became more serious and looked closely at the self-confident adventurer, “You may be young, princess, but you are certainly a formidable woman.” 

“The most formidable women of Westeros, Daenerys Targaryen and Cersei Lannister, are dead now,” Arya retorted with an edge to her voice because she was still annoyed about the ‘court garments’, “You should meet the Sand Snakes of Dorne. They would happily exhibit as much _teat_ as you desire, but will not hesitate to carve you up or poison you if you offend them.” 

The merchant prince became alarmed by her confrontational tone and his bodyguards gazed warily at the visitor, fingering the pommels of their swords. “Should I fear you?” Xaro asked with both concern and curiosity in his voice. 

Now Arya relaxed and displayed a wicked grin, “Only if you offend me, and I take insincere compliments about my beauty or a glib invitation to bed me as an offense.” Her companion, Captain Saan smirked behind his hand, but could not suppress a loud guffaw.

Xaro _had_ been eying her slender, but well-proportioned figure with mild lust, and now hastily replied, “Then I will try to avoid flattering you, my lady.” With that remark, he moved to usher the visitors on a tour of his fabulous palace, proudly showing off the beautiful gardens, marble bathing pool, divination tower with its crystal ball, and warlock’s maze. Eventually he led them to a dining area where they were feted with a variety of succulent and unusual delicacies, wines, and liqueurs. Arya enjoyed tasting all the unfamiliar foods, but only sampled a few of the heady alcoholic beverages; for she believed that her loosened tongue would only cause her embarrassment.

As they leisurely dined, Xaro candidly answered Arya’s questions about the culture, economy, people, and history of Qarth, and then Arya described the details of her voyage into unknown waters and back into charted territories. Xaro also asked about her experiences during the recent Westerosi wars, and soon the merchant prince became amazed by the seemingly ingenuous maiden’s many accomplishments that had been achieved during her relatively short lifetime. He observed that this unpretentious wolf princess was beautiful, bold, intelligent, witty, and perceptive, and he now understood why she had implied that she had no patience with the shallow aspects of courtly etiquette.

However, although he was still cautious with her pugnacious nature and well-used blades, Xaro realized that he was totally intrigued with the Northern princess and could gaze upon her and listen to her stories forever. Impulsively, he ventured, “Princess, I find you utterly fascinating and implore you to stay and enjoy the pleasures of my home whilst you regale me with tales of your adventures.”

Surprised by the merchant prince’s proposition, Arya stared at him impassively and did not immediately respond.

Having already dared to be exceedingly forward, Xaro continued, “And I do not say this _glibly,_ my lady, but if you decide to stay, I would like to court you, for I believe that you would be a most charming companion.” As Arya still remained unresponsive, he added, “As you can see, I can offer you unparalleled wealth.”

His last remark finally provoked the wolf girl. She smiled and laughed, “I have neither need nor interest in great wealth, Lord Xaro, as I already possess enough gold to support my quest.”

Xaro could not help but appear disappointed, and at that point Captain Saan entered the conversation. “What the wolf princess is not telling you, my lord,” the captain smirked, “is that there is a handsome young man hopefully awaiting her return to Westeros, and she intends to make his dreams come true as soon as she arrives.”

Now it was Xaro’s turn to be startled. Turning to Arya, he asked, “Is this true?” and the adventurer slowly nodded. “Well,” he sighed, “that young man is very fortunate.”

\-------------------

One afternoon, Renwick returned from a visit to the marketplace of Qarth, visibly excited and waving a small package gripped in his hand. Arya curiously peered into the sack and only saw several small waxy yellow blocks that emitted a faintly musky odor. Sensing her disappointment, Renwick began to babble about ‘toasted cheese’, a savory treat he had enjoyed on previous voyages in the Narrow Sea and had really missed on this one. Captain Saan smiled, as he was familiar with the grizzled old mariner’s obsession. 

Renwick proceeded to demonstrate for his liege lady how he prepared this delicacy; bringing forth a weathered oilskin sack and removing his dearest possession, an elegant silver serving tray and several smaller dishes. He carefully placed pieces of sliced hardtack on the dishes, arranged them to be warmed by a spirit lamp and heated them until they were crisp, then he took out his rigging knife and shaved the hard cheese over the ship’s biscuit. Next, he pulled a red-hot poker from the small brazier and fanned it closely over the tray until the cheese bubbled and began to melt. 

When the old sailor decided that the delectable tidbit was ready, he proudly served it to his guests with a flourish. Arya doubtfully sampled the toasted cheese and admitted that it tasted much better than what she had expected from its appearance. Renwick took a bite and smacked his lips in pleasure, exclaiming, “Ah! A taste of home! I have surely missed this flavor!” 

Captain Saan savored his piece and nodded in agreement, “Aye, Renwick, it does bring up memories of the Free Cities.”

Arya gingerly poked the remaining blocks of dry musty cheese in the bag, marveled how something that appeared so bland could taste so good, and replied, “Rest assured, Renwick, when we arrive safely in King’s Landing I will purchase enough of this weird stuff to make you ill.” 

Renwick grinned broadly with happiness, “Many thanks, milady!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After leaving Qarth, _Nymeria_ approaches more familiar territory and will eventually arrive in Westeros.


	11. The Summer Sea and Western Essos

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last spring, following the conclusion of HBO GoT and the distressing demise of the dreams of online Gendrya shippers, I constantly searched the media for any hope. I read one interview with sweet Maisie (who I still love even though I am miffed that she oversold the concept of ‘Arya loves Gendry’ when she actually intended to dump him like a bad habit) where she responded to a question about the wolf princess’s future and a possible spin-off TV show that she thought of ‘Arya the Adventurer’ as ‘Dora the Explorer, but without the bob’. Well, as I write about Arya in Essos I am keeping that idea in mind, and since _Nymeria_ entered the Saffron Straits, Arya’s journey has taken on some of the aspects of a travelogue. I hope you are enjoying the voyage.
> 
> I would have liked to finish this chapter sooner, but I was traveling during most of the summer and also writing “Would a Brother Kiss You Like That?” 
> 
> After leaving Qarth, _Nymeria_ approaches territory more familiar to her seasoned mariners and explores western Essos.

Qarth

Growing up a tomboy in the hectic castle of Winterfell, little ‘Arya underfoot’ lacked the patience to sit still for lessons and quietly study books. The energetic wolf girl’s schooling was made even more difficult because she was not allowed to read tomes of military history, strategy, and tactics, which she would actually would have enjoyed, but which were reserved for her brothers. The maester, her lady mother, and her septa all insisted that she read poetry and romance tales with her sister, as a proper young lady should, and she protested vehemently. Once Maester Luwin was compelled to remove a book about the Dothraki from her grasp, muttering that the illustrations were much too scandalous for a girl her age. The fact that costumes of that horse-obsessed people revealed much skin did not bother Arya at all, as she was mainly curious about their culture, being an avid rider herself. Nevertheless, except for excelling at sums, the future warrior woman had a limited interest in standard education. 

However, after returning to the Known World and exploring the cities of Essos with her experienced companions, notably Captain Salladhar Saan and that old salt Renwick, she was beginning to develop an interest in the historic lands and eagerly listened to their stories. Of course, her ears perked up at any mention of warfare and soldiering, but she even found learning about these ‘new’ (to her that is) cultures compelling now. 

With a wary Captain Saan as a guide, Arya visited the region of Qarth where the powerful Warlocks of Qarth lived, walking down the strange street of windowless houses called Warlock’s Way. The street was very quiet, but it was obvious that the houses were inhabited because she observed the strange sight of phantom tortoises carrying messages between them. Arya viewed the ruins of the House of the Undying, which had been the warlocks’ center of power, and had been destroyed by Daenerys Targaryen’s dragon Drogon when the ancient and powerful Undying Ones attacked the _khaleesi_ and attempted to drain her life force. 

Arya went to view the warlocks’ other seat of power, the Garden of Gehane, and had the opportunity to get a close-up experience with the eerie ghost grass that had spontaneously started to grow there after the destruction of the House of the Undying. She recalled Captain Saan telling her the Dothraki believed that ghost grass was the evil product of the Warlocks of Qarth, was inedible and deadly to other vegetation. As that moment her hair stood on end, shivers ran up her spine, and her flesh felt an icy chill. The wolf princess felt the presence of the angry spirits of the Undying Ones in her mind, protesting the presence of _another_ violent Westerosi woman on their ensorcelled ground and letting her know that she was most unwelcome. Captain Saan also felt very uncomfortable and shuddered, “Milady, I suggest we leave immediately!” Without a word, Arya nodded agreement and they made haste to depart the area.

As Arya walked the streets, markets, and squares of Qarth, she observed that many people bore permanent metal necklaces, unusual facial tattoos, and were sometimes bound in chains. Renwick told her that they were slaves, that the Qartheen depended on slaves for most of their labor, and that the slave trade was important to the economy. It was her first experience with slaves, as there were none in Westeros. Arya recalled that her lord father did not approve of the practice, having condemned Ser Jorah Mormont to death for selling two poachers into slavery. Ser Jorah fled to Essos and lived as an exile until becoming Daenerys Targaryen’s shield.

Later, Captain Saan told her that slavery was a common practice in Essos and a vital part of the economy of many cultures. Daenerys Targaryen was hated on Slaver’s Bay for disrupting the slave trade and they had wanted her dead or driven back to Westeros. Arya was shocked to consider that men and women could be bought, sold, and bred like cattle. Captain Saan added, “Amongst the supposed Free Cities, you would most be at home in Braavos, as the residents are descended from escaped slaves and slavery is not permitted nor is slave trading.” 

Arya returned his gaze and replied with a sour expression, “Aye, you might say that I was comfortable in Braavos, but had little time to reflect on slavery.”

\-------------------

The Summer Sea

 _Nymeria_ eventually left the port of Qarth and entered the Summer Sea. Excitedly leaning against the bow, Arya was amazed by the increased number of ships she observed on the water. She noted that the larger ships are mainly square-rigged vessels like _Nymeria_ with two or three perpendicular masts, and none of the type with two raked masts and lateen sails so common in Americos. Many were also beamy cargo vessels like _Nymeria,_ but the swifter variety, called brigantines, were obviously sleek and narrow. Captain Saan had been watching several brigantines closely with his spyglass and muttered to Arya, “It is likely that those are corsairs out of Slaver’s Bay, milady.”

Arya chose one of the ships he had pointed out and she scanned the deck with her own glass. The sailors appeared as disreputable as the ones who had attacked her ship in Americos and she was not pleased.

Captain Saan grinned at the wolf princess and ventured, “Mayhaps your old friend Armando Loraq has returned to his native waters, milady. Surely you would enjoy another kiss from that handsome pirate prince should we meet up again. He sure seemed to make an impression on you in Lannisport.”

Arya bristled as his words and scowled, “If that arsehole has the nerve to confront me again and bat his pretty eyes in my direction, I shall make a eunuch of him this time! I am still upset that I let him touch me!”

Captain Saan chuckled, “I am sure that it was only a fleeting moment of weakness, milady. Everyone needs some intimacy now and again.”

The she-wolf was still put out by her weakness, “Well, I don’t want or need _his_ intimacy, Captain, and he would be foolish to approach me.”

Captain Saan recognized the danger that flashed in the bold warrior woman’s eyes, and replied, “Aye, he would take his life in his hands if he accosted you again, princess. In any case, I doubt that he would ever set a foot on this deck again.”

“He better not,” Arya pronounced grimly, her hand firmly gripping Cat’s Paw. 

As the breeze freshened, Captain Saan singled out one of the corsairs that had moved to windward of _Nymeria_ and chose a tack that would rapidly bring the ship within striking distance whilst leaving the beamy carrack little wind or leeway to maneuver. Scanning the deck of the brigantine with his glass, he noted that the ragged and grim-faced buccaneers had shortswords in their belts, daggers in their teeth, and many were swinging grappling hooks on ropes, eagerly anticipating tossing them when they were within range of their intended prey. The image of a sea tiger had been crudely painted on the mainsail. Turning to Arya, the Captain ominously announced, “Those pirates mean to board us, milady.” 

The veteran warrior woman immediately called out to the first mate, who had proven to be the most accurate longbow archer, “Randyll, my compliments, and arm your bowmen! The enemy approaches!” Randyll nodded, touched two fingers to his forehead in respect, and shouted orders to the appropriate crewmen, who had gathered on deck and were anticipating this moment. Arya also readied her bow. Although she knew that she could not match the range of the larger men, she was determined to contribute to the defense of her ship. She smiled at the memory of Lanna and Tuvenel instructing her with the longbow and how they both gazed at her with approval and affection during the lessons. 

_Nymeria’s_ defenders waited patiently for _Sea Tiger_ to sail within range, fingers twitching, ready and eager for the order to loose their arrows. Randyll watched the corsair closely and when he determined the time was right, shouted, “Release!” A flurry of projectiles left the deck of _Nymeria,_ most with wickedly sharpened points and some with flaming firebrands. Many of the arrows harmlessly pierced the deck, spars, and railings of the pirate ship, but several darts skewered astonished buccaneers, maiming or killing them instantly. Well-aimed firebrands punctured the foresail, mainsail, and the mizzen and set them ablaze. As the panicked pirates scurried for water buckets to put out the burning canvas, they were more vulnerable to the second flurry of arrows, and more were wounded or killed by this round of ordnance. _Sea Tiger’s_ captain was manning the wheel and he quickly decided that _Nymeria_ was no longer a suitable prize and wisely fell off the wind and took his ship out of range of the deadly missiles. 

_Nymeria’s_ crewmen realized that they had successfully repulsed the raiders and began to cheer loudly, clap each other on the back, and embrace each other. Remembering their stern leader’s displeasure with physical contact, they merely touched two fingers to their forehead and bowed when they approached her, smiling and venturing phrases such as, “We showed those scurvy rats, didn’t we, milady?!”

Arya was very pleased, as she had observed with satisfaction that several of her own arrows had managed to reach the deck of _Sea Tiger_ and that one shaft had impaled a pirate in the thigh. _I doubt that those corsairs will approach a ship with a direwolf figurehead again!_ she thought, and reflected with some emotion, _I wish I could tell Lanna about this!_ The practical warrior woman did have the presence of mind to remind Captain Saan to set a double watch that night and warn the crewmen to be wary of a sneak attack from the defeated sea rovers. As it turned out, _Nymeria_ was only molested one more time in the Summer Sea after that first attack, and a few well-placed flaming arrows on the pirate ship’s deck discouraged her from coming any closer.

\-------------------

Approaching Slaver’s Bay now, Arya was curious to visit Old Ghis, said to be the site of the Old Empire of Ghis, believed to be the oldest civilization in the known world, even predating the fabulous Valerian Freehold. _Nymeria_ sailed to Old Ghis, on the mainland of Essos, and Arya saw simply a collection of ruins, consisting of broken walls and crumbled great pyramids. There was a huge and badly damaged statue of a harpy, the emblem of Ghis, a fantastic beast with the torso and fanged head of a woman, the wings of a bat instead of arms, the legs of an eagle with a thunderbolt in its talons, and a wicked-looking scorpion’s tail. Although the image was marred, it was still recognizable enough to be frightening and Arya shuddered. As they gazed at the vestiges of a once proud civilization, Captain Saan volunteered, “The remnants of that great nation was now located in New Ghis, a city on an island nearby. Mayhaps we should go there.” Arya nodded in agreement. 

As _Nymeria_ made her way to New Ghis, Captain Saan explained that Ghis had engaged in five wars against Old Valeria, losing each time due to the might of the dragonlords. The Ghiscari refused to accept the fact that they had no power against dragonflame. Recalling the appalling Battle of King’s Landing, Arya nodded solemnly, “I have direct experience with dragonflame and the horror will stay with me all my life.” After suppressing the fifth revolt, the Valerians pulled down their walls, reduced the buildings to ash and cinders with dragonflame, and covered their fields with salt, sulfur, and skulls, vowing that Ghis would never rise again.

The Old Empire of Ghis was the first civilization to practice slavery, enslaving conquered peoples by successfully employing their highly skilled army, which became the model for the Unsullied thousands of years later. The Ghiscari ruthlessly destroyed the cities of western Esso, erasing civilizations and cultures and becoming very rich in the process. Eventually when Old Ghis was conquered by Old Valeria, the Valerian Freehold copied their habits, enslaving _them,_ marching the survivors away from their ruined home, and in turn, also became very prosperous by enslaving other conquered peoples. 

_Nymeria_ docked in New Ghis, a small port city on an island bordering the Gulf of Grief, and saw that the inhabitants were mainly concerned with military operations and the slave trade. Although similar to the Unsullied, the legionaries were freemen, and served a term of three years. The leaders of New Ghis had despised Daenerys Targaryen when she ruled Meereen, considering her to be a Westerosi interloper, and sent soldiers and ships to fight her in Slaver’s Bay. 

Interested in all things military, Arya went to a portside tavern intending to converse with the legionaries. Spying a table of soldiers with tankards in their hands, the warrior woman approached and was about to call for the innkeeper to deliver another round, when one trooper cast a sour expression in her direction, and with obvious distaste hotly addressed the girl in fighting leathers, “Come no closer, Westerosi bitch! We have no desire to drink with you!” Arya stopped in her tracks, shocked by his unexpected rage. Raking his eyes up and down her torso, the soldier then sneered, “In fact, I recognize you now. I believe I fucked you in a pleasure house on Lys.”

Now Arya scowled and placed her hand on Needle’s pommel in response to the insult and spat, “Why you bastard! How dare you?!”

Immediately, Renwick nervously stayed her hand and muttered, “That is not a good idea, milady. We are seriously outnumbered and I think we should leave whilst we can.” 

She observed that the eight men sitting at the table also had their hands on the pommels of their greatswords and their countenances implied that they were spoiling for a fight. Faceless Man Arya surmised that she could take out a few opponents quickly, but then the odds would still be poor for both her and Renwick. Nodding at her companion she retorted, “Well, _I_ have no desire to waste coin on such impolite ruffians! Good morrow!” spinning around and flouncing out of the tavern. The legionaries were so surprised by her response that they just watched her disappear. 

As they walked back to the ship, Renwick was still shaking and sighed, “That was a close one!” _Nymeria_ did not stay long in port, only long enough to resupply, and set sail to the west again.

\-------------------

Leaving New Ghis, _Nymeria_ passed from the Summer Sea into the Sea of Grief, which led into Slaver’s Bay. Arya had no desire to visit the several warring, slave-trading cities on the Bay, but she did want to view the ruins of Old Valeria, ordering Captain Saan to chart a course for the Smoking Sea. The well-traveled old smuggler looked most uneasy and replied, “Methinks that is not a wise idea, milady, the whole region is believed to be cursed and haunted by ghosts and demons.”

Four hundred years earlier, the Valerian Peninsula was attached to the continent of Essos, but during an event called the Doom of Valeria, volcanic eruptions and earthquakes shattered the land into numerous smoldering volcanic islands. It was called the Smoking Sea because of bubbles, smoke, and steam erupting out of the water, and the fumes that resulted were said to be poisonous and to cause instant death when inhaled. 

The intrepid explorer had been standing at the bow, with the glass to her eye focused on the smoking volcanoes of the blasted archipelago in the distance. The crew got wind of their leader’s intent, and First Mate Randyll approached, representing the crew, touched two fingers to his forehead and politely begged, “Milady, if it please you, do not ask us to sail to the Smoking Sea, for we will surely be going to our death.”

Arya looked over Randyll’s shoulder and realized that the sailors on deck had stopped working and were staring at her, including the men of the off-duty watch. She had never seen them so worried, even in the heat of battle. Perceiving how uneasy all the sailors were, she consulted trusted Renwick and he also pleaded, “Milady, we should steer clear of the Smoking Sea. You are young, and only recently a traveler over the waves. Old Valeria harbors evil and sailing too close will only cause ill fortune.” The other sailors nodded in agreement at his words.

The adventurer sighed and turned again to Captain Saan, “Captain, belay that last order. Chart a course around Old Valeria and let us continue sailing westwards in the Summer Sea.” The old sailor looked very relieved and smartly replied, “Aye, milady!” 

Turning her attention to the volcanoes again and taking one last wistful look at them through her glass, she thought she saw something moving on one cratered peak. Focusing in on the form, she spied a dragon and recognized it as Daenerys’s black and scarlet menace, Drogon. Arya directed her warging sense in the dragon’s direction and felt a tingle in her mind, indicating that she had made contact with the magical creature. Drogon instantly spun his head around and glared in her direction. The inexperienced warg impulsively tried to summon the fantastic beast, but Drogon shrugged off her mental request contemptuously and flew away into the northeastern sky. All the wolf girl could do was watch in awe as the mighty and dangerous animal disappeared from view. _Mayhaps that was not a good idea to summon it,_ Arya reflected, _what if it **had** come to me?!_

\-------------------

_Nymeria_ maintained a suitable distance from Old Valeria, and once past the smoking islands, turned northwest towards the southern coast of Essos again. Arya and Captain Saan studied their charts, observing what sights lay before them. After her recent unpleasant experiences, the wolf princess was beginning to wonder if she really desired to explore every historic location they would pass. Volantis was the next city on the coast, where the mighty Rhoyne River met the sea. “Captain, would it be worth the effort to stop at Volantis?”

“Well, milady,” he replied, “The inhabitants of Volantis consider themselves to be heirs to the Valerian Freehold and act accordingly, having grown rich on their vast slave trade, and I know how much you enjoy the sight of enslaved peoples.” Captain Saan did not know that as a child, Arya had been a servant in Harrenhal castle, witnessing and experiencing cruelty and brutality on a daily basis, and she never forgot how callously the powerless workers were treated. The young girl had been most fortunate to have avoided being raped, a common occurrence during wartime.

Arya scowled, “I have seen enough slaves to last a lifetime!”

“The wealthy all ride huge elephants, and there are some impressive edifices in Volantis, princess,” the captain continued, “bridges, marketplaces where they trade in silks and spices, and slaves of course. The famous Black Walls that encompass the oldest part of the city were built by the Valerian Freehold thousands of years earlier. They are two hundred feet high and are amazingly composed of fused black dragonstone, a material harder than diamonds or steel, making the first colony of the Valerian expansion to be invulnerable to attacks.”

The young adventurer looked intrigued and responded, “That _does_ sound interesting.” 

Seeing that he had piqued her interest, Captain Saan suggested, “Cyvasse was invented in Volantis, milady, and a wide variety of artistic playing pieces can be purchased in the marketplace.”

“A Karstark taught me the game when I was a child and I have always liked to play it, especially because I usually win. Mayhaps I could bring home a new set or two.”

“I must point out, milady, that Volantis is not the most pleasant place for a tourist to stroll, as the climate is always hot and humid, and once one moves away from the waterfront breezes the heat drains energy and can make you feel like you are drowning in your own sweat. The moist air also carries the scent of fish, flowers, and elephant dung. Pardon my language, princess, but I once heard your esteemed Hand to the King and Queen, Tyrion Lannister, say that the city smells like an old whore.”

The young adventurer merely looked perplexed and replied, “I have no frame of reference for your remark, Captain.”

Captain Saan laughed, “I suppose not, milady. I should mention you will see tigers and elephants constantly fighting in Volantis. It is quite a sight.”

Fighting was always of major interest to the warrior woman, her eyebrows went up and she perked up, “Really?”

But the Captain chuckled and explained, “In truth, politics is the favorite pastime of the Volantenes, and the tigers and elephants are political parties, whose members argue endlessly. There are debates and disputes in every square and on every street corner.”

Now Arya’s expression appeared as though she had drunk curdled milk, “Ugh! Fighting with words! I hate politics! I have lost all interest in stopping there. Let us choose another destination.”

Tapping the chart, Captain Saan ventured, “In that case, milady, I suggest we set a course for Lys. That lovely isle is my birthplace and I am eager to drop anchor there after our fantastic voyage.” Arya studied the chart and her navigator continued, “As you see, princess, Lys is not far from the Stepstones and the Broken Arm of Dorne. There we will tack north into the Narrow Sea and the ports of Westeros. We are on the way to your homeland.” 

Arya’s face took on a faraway gaze and she sighed, “Home! Captain, I realize now that I am eager to see my family again: Bran in King’s Landing, mayhaps Sansa in Winterfell, and even Jon amongst the Wildlings.”

The old smuggler was no fool and he waggled his eyebrows suggestively, “Come now, princess, is there not one _more_ person you hope to see when we make landfall?” 

The wolf princess blushed and lowered her eyes, “We are _both_ well aware of my desire to ride to Storm’s End, Salladhar, so we do not need to speak of it right now.”

“As you wish, milady,” Captain Saan nodded and changed the topic to their future course headings.

\-------------------

Three weeks of uneventful sailing brought _Nymeria_ to the isle of Lys. As they approached the island, Captain Saan pointed out the coastline of the Disputed Lands of Essos to the north, claimed by both Lys and Myr, and a constant source of dissension between the two Free Cities. Arya was amazed how lovely Lys appeared and she recalled the tropical islands she had explored before arriving in Americos. Although Lys was located on a tiny rocky, wave-battered island, it was sunny, beautiful, and green, with palm and fruit trees, and the surrounding blue-green waters were teeming with fish. All the off-duty deckhands were at the rail with eager expressions on their faces. Captain Saan appeared embarrassed and confessed, “Milady, I should inform you that Lys is most famous for its Houses of Pleasure, which are called pillow houses. As you can see, the sailors are elated to have an opportunity to spend their hard-earned wages in the most delightful way and are impatient for shore leave.”

“Well, they will have that opportunity soon enough,” the wolf girl smirked. 

On the first afternoon that _Nymeria_ was docked in Lys harbor, the off duty watch was enjoying shore leave and Arya was in the hold with First Mate Randyll evaluating the supplies and making a list for the local ship chandler. Captain Saan came bouncing down the companionway wearing a grin from ear to ear and motioned for her, implying that he desired a private conversation. When they were alone in the captain’s cabin, he stated, “Milady, when we landed in Qarth I immediately searched for a ship that was setting out for Westeros and sent a letter to Ser Davos Seaworth in King’s Landing, with a request to send his response to my agent in Lys.”

The wolf princess tried not to appear as surprised as she actually was, but said nothing.

Now he smiled broadly and continued, “His letter was waiting for me today and Ser Davos wrote that even after almost three years, young Lord Baratheon has resisted all attempts to have him wed and insists that he is waiting for you to return. He has made many of his vassals quite angry but has been steadfast in his behavior.”

Arya returned the Captain’s smile and laughed, “Gendry always was a stubborn bull! Well, I suppose that he is now aware that I am on my way back to Westeros and will be awaiting my arrival.” 

“Aye! And I want to witness your reunion myself!” the excited mariner replied.

After her conversation with Captain Saan, Arya was becoming increasingly excited about seeing her family again. When Arya had possessed eighteen namedays and began her journey, she had no idea how much she would eventually miss her siblings. She was a wolf and needed her pack, and it had taken almost three years of voluntary separation for her to realize that fact. Besides being eager to plan reunions with her remaining relatives, she recognized that she really _did_ want to see Gendry again. The stern young warrior woman had never forgotten how passionately he had gazed at her so long ago and she accepted that such love was not something to take for granted. She had to admit to herself that she had _always_ harbored strong feelings for the lad. Aye, she was impatient to learn if the easy companionship that they had enjoyed as children could blossom into a close adult friendship, and mayhaps more.

With that thought in mind, Arya spent some time repacking her sea chests, evaluating gifts and souvenirs from her journey that she was keen to show Gendry and inspected and refolded her Dornish silks that she knew he would like to see. Then she found her harem girl outfit from the embarrassing kidnapping incident on Leng Ma. Holding up the skimpy but beautiful sky blue silk garments in the sunlight blazing through the luxurious stern windows of her cabin, she smirked, _Hmm, Gendry would simply **die** if he saw me in this costume!_ Then she grinned, _He liked to watch me water dancing with Needle, I wonder what he would think if I danced for him like a harem girl! That would be fun!_

Captain Saan had confessed to Arya that he planned to visit an old friend of his, Saera Swann, once one of the most desired courtesans on Lys, and now the madam of one of the most opulent pillow houses, the Perfumed Garden. When the wolf princess smirked and raised her eyebrows, the old smuggler hurriedly added with a blush, “Not to partake of the delights, milady, those days are long in my past, but to simply reminisce over goblets of sweet red wine.”

Now the she-wolf had a thought, and with some embarrassment herself, ventured, “Captain, wouldst your friend be able to instruct me in the art of exotic dancing? When Lanna Otherys saw me practicing my water dancing, she suggested that I might find exotic dancing lessons to be fun and useful for manipulating the emotions of men. She also said that it was good exercise.” 

The old seafarer waggled his eyebrows and chortled, “Exercise, heh? Aye, milady, I will gladly introduce you to Madame Saera. This will be most interesting.”

Arya accompanied the Captain to the Perfumed Garden, dressed in Dornish silks and clutching his arm like the nervous and innocent young maiden that she actually was. The famous madam greeted the pair with a huge smile, and during the introductions, Salladhar had to convince her that Arya was _not_ his lovely daughter, but in fact, his employer. They all had a good laugh at the thought. The Captain informed Madame Swann that the Westerosi princess had a request for her, which was met with a quizzical gaze. Arya exhibited her harem girl costume to the older woman and blushingly said that she desired to learn the art of exotic dancing. “I don’t see why not,” Saera replied, “it is highly valued practice here on Lys.” She summoned over her most skilled courtesan, Irogenia the Beauty, and repeated Arya’s wish. 

Irogenia raked her eyes up and down Arya’s body, and the wolf girl detected a note of doubt in her voice as she answered, “Hmmm, you appear to be quite slender, girl, but attend me to my solar where you can change into your dancing silks and I can better evaluate your build.”

In the courtesan’s private boudoir, Arya disappeared behind a screen and emerged in the veils, pantaloons, halter top, and slippers, self-conscious and red-faced for she was never comfortable exposing so much skin. Irogenia looked at her critically and stated, “Well, you certainly have an athletic physique and that is very good, Arya, is it? And although your curves are modest, your hips and breasts are of a proper size to demonstrate the art.” Then she smiled and added, “Actually, girl, you are quite beautiful. Captain Saan called you princess, and you certainly look like one. If you desire male attention, you will certainly find it.”

Arya blushed at the words of praise, but merely lowered her eyes and muttered, “I only desire _one_ man’s attention.” 

Irogenia led her through a variety of elaborate leg lifts, elegant arm gyrations, torso twirls, and dance moves, some of which seemed familiar to the water dancer, and watched the younger girl closely as she mimicked her mentor. Finally the courtesan exclaimed, “My, Arya, you are so graceful! And you are a quick study, too! I believe that it would not take you very long to master the art of exotic dancing. Do you have a pole at home?”

The student stopped dancing and looked puzzled at that last remark, raising her eyebrows and asked, “A pole?!”

“Never mind,” Irogenia quickly replied, then impulsively grabbed Arya’s hand and enthusiastically gushed, “Girl, why don’t you stay for my belly dancing class which starts in one hour? I think you will enjoy it. Please?” 

The curious adventurer agreed and joined Captain Saan and Madame Swann for a light snack whilst she waited for the class to begin. The madam explained, “Belly dancing is popular in Lys and believed to be a good form of exercise, increases flexibility and muscle tone, and even leads to weight loss.” As Arya nodded in understanding, Saera continued, “It is even practiced by pregnant women because the motions make the pelvic muscles stronger and help settle the babe into a proper position for childbirth.” Then she slyly added as the Captain smirked, “Princess, you will find that useful someday, no?” 

Arya blushed and whispered, “Mayhaps,” but privately she was annoyed, thinking, _Ever since I attained seven namedays I have been reminded that I am merely a vessel for bearing noble babes! I have had to work hard all my life to prove that I am more than that!_

The class was in a larger room with mirrors on the walls and Arya watched as a dozen chattering, excited women entered and removed their cloaks, revealing that they were dressed in ensembles similar to hers. They all proceeded to add numerous gold and silver necklaces, bracelets, earrings, head hair bands, and waist bands to their bodies, and the jewelry made musical sounds as they stretched and warmed up their muscles. Arya was astounded by the range in ages and body shapes present. There was a plump child who had not flowered yet and a thin maiden of ten and four namedays. Many of the women appeared to be fit and to have about twenty to thirty namedays although two were heavy, and one was definitely aged. There was also a woman of about Arya’s age that was six months pregnant. Obviously, belly dancing was an art designed for _all_ women! 

Irogenia arrived with similar jewelry for Arya and introduced her as a new student, originally from Westeros. The friendly women smiled and welcomed her. Irogenia nodded to a pair of musicians in the corner, a drummer and a piper, and the women who had begun to warm up their muscles, started to sway with the music. Arya found herself compelled to move with the melody also. 

The graceful instructor led the class in a series of exercises, starting with shoulder rotations and limber arm and hand motions, then added hip swivels followed by hip lifts that worked leg movements to the dance. Lastly, Irogenia demonstrated belly rolls, encouraging the students to copy her gyrations and add these motions to complete the entire concept of belly dancing. Arya found these new demands to her abdominal muscles to be challenging and difficult at first, but her years of exercise soon kicked in and she soon began to master the technique and enjoy the process too. Looking around the room, she noticed that the more experienced students were smiling and dancing much like their agile trainer. It was hard work though, and as beads of sweat appeared on her forehead, she realized that her heart and lungs were getting a good workout. Feeling graceful and confident herself, the young adventurer enjoyed the camaraderie, exercise, music, and tinkling jewelry, and was very pleased. 

Glancing at the dancers reflected on the mirrored wall, Arya’s eyes were caught by the sight of an attractive girl in blue silks gracefully going through the elaborate motions of the belly dance. Recognizing the lovely and loose chestnut locks of hair under the veils, she was startled to realize that the maiden in the mirror was _herself!_ But what caught Arya’s attention more than her appearance was that her stomach and hips were moving in what could only be considered back home as extremely indecent and suggestive gyrations. The conservative Northern girl’s face turned red and she felt hot and embarrassed, thinking, _What would Sansa and Jon think if they saw me now?_ She could just imagine the look of horror on her sister’s face and shock on her favorite brother’s. She faltered for a moment and Irogenia looked at her quizzically until she picked up the rhythm again, now recalling why she had come in the first place. Grinning to herself, she considered, _Bother Sansa, Gendry will **love** seeing this!_

Arya was just beginning to feel tired when Irogenia signaled to the musicians to slow the tempo and she began to direct her students in a series of cool down exercises. At the end of the lesson the women all gathered together, chattering rapidly, and the pregnant girl invited Arya to join them in the parlor for iced honey milk or wine. The ladies were all intrigued with the pretty newcomer, and one of the women, who followed the news, after hearing a few clues and observing her appearance, recognized her as the famous wolf princess who had been the hero of the Westerosi Battle of the Long Night. Now the conversation really became animated and Arya found herself answering many questions and describing her life and travels. 

Finally one of the older women smirked and asked, “Princess, I doubt you are learning to dance to become a courtesan, so I expect that like some of us here, you intend to entertain a young man. Do you have a lover on your ship? Is he handsome and virile?”

The she-wolf blushed at the intimate question but shook her head with a little smile, “Nae, I have no lover on my ship, but mayhaps there is a handsome and strong man in Westeros who might enjoy my dancing. He did when we were younger.”

Eventually the cozy chat broke up, and before the classmates departed, they all expressed pleasure in meeting Arya and hoped that they would see her again. The wolf girl went back to Irogenia’s solar and changed into her silk robes. Coming out of the chamber, she saw the courtesan and Madame Saera deep in conversation, with Captain Saan laughing nearby. As Arya approached, Irogenia addressed her and ventured, “Princess, I am most impressed by your beauty and graceful dancing style. I believe that you are very talented and both Madame and I are convinced that if you decided to stay and perform at the Perfumed Garden, you would become very famous and earn much coin. What say you?”

Captain Saan could not help but smirk, “Aye, milady, would you care to wrap up your voyage in Lys and remain here as a seductress? You would not be the first Westerosi highborn to do so. Even women of House Targaryen have taken that path.”

“Now you are japing with me, Captain,” Arya laughed, “You know full well that I intend to return home.” Turning to the two women, she replied, “I appreciate the praise, ladies, but I have been voyaging for almost three years and miss my family. I have no desire to delay a reunion any further." They looked vaguely disappointed but nodded in understanding. Arya thanked them for the experience and paid generously for the lessons and also purchased her jewelry. They all traded farewells, and the young traveler and her guide returned to _Nymeria_. 

Unbeknownst to Arya because she had been so intent on her lesson and surrounded by other students, a few of the seamen most devoted to her physical beauty, specifically Wyl and Alyn, were witnessing the belly dancing lesson from the foyer, and worshipping her lovely and vibrating feminine figure. Afterwards they could not leave without having a woman and made use of the brothel, requesting petite, slim, dark-haired girls, of course. They returned to the ship with big smiles and the wolf princess wondered why they grinned so broadly when they saw her and paid their respects.

Later, in Storm’s End, after the new bride described her adventures in Lys to her husband, she went to her sea chests and dressed in her harem girl outfit complete with the earrings, bracelets, necklaces, head hair bands, and waist bands, embellished with bangles and bells. She demonstrated what she had learned at the pillow house for Gendry, gyrating her torso and producing music from the vibrating gold. The performance ended by the almost-courtesan ringing _his_ bells.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should mention that many of the details about the cities on the continent of Essos were found on the Internet sites “A Wiki of Ice and Fire” and “Game of Thrones Wiki Fandom”.
> 
> I’m usually not vain enough to toot my own horn, but the recent article referenced below supports my belief that “Redemption” is the proper sequel to HBO GoT. Essentially, it says that ‘Arya the Adventurer’ was following in the footsteps of Elissa Farman (mentioned in Chapter 5 here), who set out on the same journey 250 years earlier and disappeared, although some believe her ship was seen near Asshai many years later, implying that the world was round. Therefore, Arya would sail around the world and eventually come back to her family (and Gendry). Gendrya lives!
> 
> https://www.express.co.uk/entertainment/books/1175160/Game-of-Thrones-Arya-ending-West-of-Westeros-ship-HBO-George-RR-Martin-books-Fire-Blood
> 
> Next: Arya comes closer to King’s Landing. The voyager recounts another of her adventures with Lanna Otherys.


	12. Meet the Parents

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As ‘Arya the Adventurer’ sails closer to home and her impending domestic life, here is a brief fluffy interlude that brings Lanna Otherys back into the story. I hope you like her character as much as I enjoy writing about her.

Previously:

Later, in Storm’s End, after the new bride described her adventures in Lys to her husband, she went to her sea chests and dressed in her harem girl outfit complete with the earrings, bracelets, necklaces, head hair bands, and waist bands, embellished with bangles and bells. She demonstrated what she had learned at the pillow house for Gendry, gyrating her torso and producing music from the vibrating gold. The performance ended by the almost-courtesan ringing _his_ bells.

\-------------------

Storm’s End

The next evening, as the newlyweds cuddled in their bed, Arya began her nightly tales, “Gendry, we stayed on Lys for another week and I had more opportunities for dancing lessons. I was having fun and enjoying the companionship of other women, a new experience for me. They were very interested in my travels and listened intently to my tales as we socialized with wine and iced honey milk.” 

Grinning at her relaxed husband, the adventurer continued, “Gendry, I want to tell you about the time that Lanna Otherys took me to meet her parents. It was an interesting visit to her childhood home.” Gendry looked a bit uncomfortable at the topic, but he was intrigued. His young wife continued, “ _Nymeria_ and the _Ochre Lady_ had been sailing side by side for two months along the southern coast of Americos after Lanna first hailed us. My sailors were learning longbow archery with the help of Lanna’s, the two crews were become comrades, and my friendship with Lanna was growing more intimate. As we drew near the southeastern cape of the continent, I expressed a desire to explore the eastern coastline, for when _Nymeria_ first approached Americos and encountered the land of the caffe cooperatives; we next steered south and eventually tacked westward along the southern shore.” 

“Lanna nodded her agreement with shining eyes, for her home port, Corinth, was located on the eastern shore, north of the caffe-growers. As I already told you, Lanna had convinced me to become more girly and her loving attention improved my demeanor as we became closer. I was becoming a happier person and my fatherly sailors were very pleased. Lanna was eager to visit her family and introduce them to her ‘soul mate’.” 

“Our ships proceeded along the planned course and soon I recognized the hillsides covered with caffe plants that we had spotted when _Nymeria_ had first arrived in Americos. We continued in a northerly direction until Lanna pointed out the imposing white marble towers of the port of Corinth looming nearby. Passing the harbor entrance, we sailed for a few more hours and approached her parents’ castle, ‘Greenwood’, also composed of white marble, which was set on a high bluff above the sea. Apparently, Lanna’s parents, Duke and Duchess Otherys, ruled a large duchy, and had several vassals. Lanna’s occupation as a privateer had prevented her from returning home for more than a year, and she was excited to see her family again and to demonstrate that she was now in a serious relationship.” 

Arya paused and caught her husband’s eyes before she continued, “Gendry, Lanna and I had been together for about two months by this time, and she was convinced that our close friendship was special. I had _never_ been in a relationship before and had no idea what to think.” The adventurer smiled at the perplexed young man and squeezed his hand, “Gendry, although we had come to depend on each other whilst on the Kingsroad with Yoren, at Harrenhal, and amongst the Brotherhood, I cannot say that we actually had what could truly be called a ‘relationship’ at that time. We were both so young and clueless anyway.” 

Gendry nodded, “I was just old enough to entertain amorous thoughts and once I realized that you were a girl, a bold and sassy girl at that, I fantasized about becoming part of your life. But I despaired that my lowborn bastard status would cause us to be separated when you rejoined your kinfolk. That is why I asked to be knighted by Lord Beric; I hoped to be worthy of your hand someday.” 

Arya laughed at his words, “I was only a troubled child at the time, confused and bereft of family, thinking of you as the nearest thing to a brother in our desperation. If I had _any_ idea that you had romantic aspirations towards me, I would have scolded you thoroughly.”

The young lord grinned, “Aye, you rebuked, berated, and insulted me enough then. If you had also reprimanded me for imagining being wed to you, I would have lost _all_ my confidence.” 

\-------------------

Lanna’s parents were most pleased to have their beloved daughter visit, as she did not drop in frequently. When they recognized the _Ochre Lady_ setting her anchor offshore and raising an identifying banner, they became excited and immediately sent messages to her siblings, also handsome, blond, and green-eyed, to gather for a family reunion, and also raised a signal flag from the highest tower welcoming Lanna. Captain Otherys’ older brother and heir to Greenwood, Lewys, had two young children, Myles, a lad of seven namedays, and Myria, a girl of eight, with his wife Meredyth. Her younger brother, Lorcas, was a dedicated scholar of Levant, and his profession was obvious from his black robes and the deep red velvet tam on his head. Lorcas had only a few more namedays than Arya and was most curious about the visitor from afar. After the introductions on the dock, he politely latched onto her, loaded with questions. . 

Captain Otherys had been determined to make a memorable appearance upon her homecoming. The hull of her personal longboat was freshly painted bright blue and the sailor suits of her eight oarsmen and bosun were bleached to a blinding white. The mariners all wore straw boater hats enhanced with red silk bands above the wide flat brims. Each sailor also wore a red sash around his waist. As Lanna’s parents smiled and observed her arrival, the bosun piped a welcoming whistle and the longboat was skillfully laid up against the quay whilst the crewmen quickly shipped their oars and jumped smartly to carefully secure the boat to the pier. Lanna leapt swiftly out of the longboat and leaned back to gracefully assist Arya in disembarking. The independent warrior woman tried not to show her annoyance and was about to snarl that she was _not_ helpless, but she saw the warm expression on Lanna’s face and realized that her solicitous attitude was due to affection and not a belief that the girl was incompetent. The proud she-wolf simply smiled and grasped Lanna’s hand as she guided her onto the dock. Still holding Arya’s hand, a beaming Lanna introduced the girl to her family, “This is my _very_ dear friend, Princess Arya Stark.” Arya had learned that ladies didn’t curtsy in Americos, but she simply bowed deeply as was the custom. Lanna had also insisted that she not wear any of her blades, as that would be an insult to her hosts. 

“Gendry, Lanna was so excited about introducing me to her kinfolk that before disembarking, she carefully chose her own wardrobe and then began fussing about _my_ appearance. She insisted that I wear Dornish silk robes and searched through my sea chest to find the appropriate colors that she thought would best enhance my complexion and hair. She deftly applied light makeup and brushed my hair out until it was flowing and lustrous. I asked why she was doing all this and she kissed me lightly on the lips and murmured, ‘I want them to see how beautiful you are.’ She even insisted that I wear a silk scarf in the longboat so my hair would not get wild and tangled as we crossed the bay.”

Leaving the dock and walking up the gently sloping path to the castle, Lorcas took Arya’s elbow and eagerly began to inquire about her voyage. The younger pair strolled in front whilst conversing and Lanna accompanied her parents, walking between them and clutching their arms. Her parents are well aware of their daughter’s preference for intimate female companionship, and her mother whispered, her eyes on Arya’s slim figure, “Lanna, your friend is very sweet and pretty, but she appears to be only a few years past childhood and quite innocent. I fear that you are robbing the cradle.”

Lanna laughed, “Arya may _appear_ young and innocent, but I assure you that she has had experience beyond her years. However, I _am_ her first lover of consequence.” As Lanna’s parents gazed at the maiden with interest, Lanna continued, “There is more to the girl than meets the eye. Arya seems modest, but is actually a bold and brave swordfighter and the many inhabitants of her homeland owe their lives and freedom to her skill as a warrior. Her younger brother is the king of their continent, called Westeros, striving to help heal it from the devastation of war and famine, and her older sister is queen of the largest kingdom, which also is trying to recover from the destruction of battle. What is most amazing is that the oldest of these notable siblings is merely twenty one years old.” 

The family gathered for the midday meal and everyone had questions for the visitor. Lewys asked about her unusual ship, and Meredyth, eyeing Arya curiously and hoping to gain more insight into her mysterious good-sister, enquired how she met Lanna and what they had been doing together. Lanna’s mother hesitated for a moment, then ventured that she meant no disrespect, and questioned her about her facial scars.

Arya slowly explained, “I bear several other scars that you cannot see. Duchess, I am actually more of a soldier than a proper princess. Whilst most noble girls of my age spent their childhood reading poetry in a classroom or sewing and singing in a lady’s solar, I was desperately avoiding murderous enemies, and eventually became a swordfighter skilled enough to confront my foes and kill most of them.” She gazed around the table, noting the surprised, wide-eyed expressions and solemnly concluded, “I realize that I appear an innocent maiden to you, but there is much blood on my hands. I have fought monsters and put more men in their graves than I can count.”

There was dead silence in the chamber now, for even the servants had stopped and stared when they heard Arya’s words, and the Otherys family seemed to be in shock. Finally, Lanna patted her hand and kissed her lightly on the cheek, attempting to placate her friend by murmuring, “All that happened long ago, sweetling. You survived those horrors and have a long, joyful life to enjoy before you. Tell us about the direwolves of your House.”

“It felt so weird, Gendry,” the wolf girl addressed her husband, “Lanna was behaving as though we were a betrothed couple whilst dining with her family during that first meal. She sat close to me and held my hand the whole time. I felt so awkward and shy and I didn’t know what to do except keep my eyes down like a bashful maiden unless I was directly addressed.” 

Gendry smiled at her words, imagining how he and Arya would have behaved if such a situation had ever arisen, since they both lacked parents. He had met Lord Stark and remembered how the Hand of the King had seemed like the most honorable man in King’s Landing. The young smith fancied that he would have said, “Milord, I love your beautiful daughter deeply and request your permission to marry her. Lady Arya completes me and there is no other lass for me.” He had met Lady Stoneheart also, and chose to forget that horrible abomination. Surely she was nothing like Arya’s mother Lady Catelyn had been whilst alive. In truth, prior to Arya finally joining him at Storm’s End, both their entire lives had been far different from the ones normal people experienced, and a typical matchmaking venture and request for a daughter’s hand was completely out of the question. 

\-------------------

Sailors arrived from the ships with Lanna’s and Arya’s sea chests, and Lanna announced that her guest would share her bedroom. Still holding Arya’s hand, she led the mariners to her chamber. Lanna’s parents shared veiled glances as the women left the dining hall, an act which was not lost on the wolf princess. 

Arya was taken by the beauty of Lanna’s homeland. The climate was mild and the temperature rarely became exceedingly warm or cold, although it did snow in the wintertime. The soil was rich and rainfall was abundant, and thus forests covered the countryside. The main agricultural products were orchards of fruit and nut trees. Greenwood was set on a cliff above the ocean and Arya was impressed by the view from the balcony of Lanna’s childhood chamber. As she stared down at the waves rolling in to crash on the pebble beach at the base of the sea cliff, Lanna came behind her and wrapped her arms around the girl’s waist, settling her hands on Arya’s toned stomach. Lanna chuckled as she nibbled on the back of Arya’s neck, sending jolts of pleasure through her, “Who would have thought that as I pondered the ocean from my window, wondering what lay east of Americos, there was a girl on the other side of the world, speculating what unknown lands lay west of her country? It was as if fate meant for us to meet.” 

A nip on her earlobe made Arya groan and lean back into Lanna. Her lover held her more tightly and began to caress her body as she sighed, “It certainly seems so.” It was obvious to the wolf girl that Lanna was intensely aroused by the prospect of ravishing her sweetheart in the confines of her own personal chamber, so she just closed her eyes and let Lanna have her way with her as they fell into the featherbed, not even caring if their cries of pleasure were heard outside the door. Afterwards, they bathed and dressed for dinner.

At dinner, Lorcas sat next to Arya and continued conversing with her. The young scholar had been in Levant when Arya first arrived, but did not have the opportunity to meet her then. _Nymeria’s_ appearance in the city devoted to learning caused a buzz of excitement, as the academics now had tangible proof of the existence of an unknown civilization, and Lorcas informed Arya that the dons were now proposing that explorers be sent into the Sunrise Sea to find her lands. Knowing the dangers of such a journey, based on Arya’s recounting, there was much consideration as to how the voyage could be attempted safely. 

The following morning, Arya came down to break her fast in her familiar leathers with her two deadly blades securely in her belt. She wore no makeup and her long chestnut hair was tightly woven into a single braid down her back. Lanna’s mother eyed the girl inquisitively and queried, “Princess….?”

“Lanna insisted that I wear stylish silk robes yesterday, Duchess, and _please_ just call me Arya, but _this_ outfit is my typical attire. I intend to introduce myself to your master-at-arms this morning and spar with any challengers.” 

The Duke and his sons raised their eyes at her words and the vivacious she-wolf added with a devilish grin and flashing eyes, “I am spoiling for some real exercise.” Meredyth laughed loudly; she had not expected to see this unique side of Lanna’s new friend. At dinner the previous evening Myles and Myria had thought the bashful, soft-spoken, and pretty maiden to be boring, but now they gazed at their unusual visitor with more curiosity. 

Now the Duchess understood her daughter’s attraction for this teenager, who had seemingly arrived as a demure and feminine maiden, but in reality was a bold and unapologetic tomboy. The adventurer’s compelling personality was certainly on display this morning.

Arya sat down next to a chuckling Lanna and looked inquisitively at the plate before her. She recognized the stack of warm hotcakes, but they were covered in a layer of viscous opaque brown liquid dripping down the sides and congealing on the dish. The curious girl dipped a finger into the fluid and brought the digit to her tongue. Her eyes lit up and she moaned with delight. Seizing her knife and fork she quickly cut a bite-sized portion from the stack, making sure that it was slathered in the liquid, and filled her mouth. After chomping loudly and emitting another unladylike moan, Arya blurted out, “By the gods, that was delicious! What _is_ this wonderful stuff?!”

Lanna smiled, “It is called maple syrup. I presume that you do not have maple trees in your country. The sap of the trees is collected and boiled down into a thick liquid we use to sweeten many foods.”

“Maple syrup?” Arya repeated, already chewing on another mouthful of hotcake, “I am familiar with honey, but I think I like this better!” The Northern girl had always loved sweets (it was the only thing she had in common with her sister Sansa) and spying a sauceboat filled with syrup on the table, she drowned her hotcakes in even more of the sugary liquid. Diving in with her utensils for more, Arya was eating so enthusiastically that she got the sticky fluid all over her face and smiled innocently when a grinning Lanna reached over to wipe her cheeks and lips with a napkin. The Otherys grandchildren laughed and giggled as they smeared maple syrup all over their faces too, charmed by the impulsive and animated older girl. 

Later, Arya went to the kitchen to praise the staff and seeing that they were baking apple and blueberry pies, wasted no time when offered even more sweet delicacies. She sat down and began to dig into a warm fruit pie, moaning with pleasure as the cooks giggled behind their hands. Lanna arrived and laughed at her friend’s behavior. She patted Arya’s trim stomach and said, “Wolfie, you will become as plump as a sow from eating so many sweets.” 

With her mouth full of pie, Arya replied, “I shall just have to exercise more vigorously.” 

Lanna smirked wickedly, “That is fine with me, sweetling, for I _love_ to exercise with you.”

After breaking her fast, Arya announced that she wanted to visit the castle armory and practice grounds, and mayhaps spar with the master-at-arms and any interested knights. Lanna’s brother Lewys had some training and volunteered to face her first, but soon deferred to Arya’s obviously more extensive skill, admitting that he would not last more than a few minutes in an actual battle with her. The master-at-arms had been observing the action and after briefly crossing swords with her, also ventured that she was obviously a master of swordplay. However, several younger knights and lordlings insisted on challenging her, mainly desiring to interact with the fetching lass, and were dismayed to find themselves soon flat on their backs with the smiling warrior woman gloating over their prone bodies. Arya was courteous enough to reach out a hand to help them to their feet, demonstrating her unexpected arm strength, and they believed it was worth the embarrassment of losing to see her flash her beautiful grey eyes at them when they kissed her hand in deference. 

That afternoon, Lorcas accompanied Lanna and Arya as they took a ride through the forest surrounding Greenwood, finding a hilltop where they could view the verdant landscape. Arya, smiling and with sparkling eyes, stroked her mare’s neck and related how much she had enjoyed riding with the ‘gochos’ in the grasslands inland of Malin. She also recalled riding through the Wolfswood of her home, breathing in the bracing air of the cold, snow-covered North and inhaling the pungent odor of the pine needles. It did not take long for Lorcas to convince himself that he was in love with the lovely and vivacious adventurer, and confessed this fact to his sister.

Later when they were alone, Lanna smirked, “I think Lorcas has a crush on you, wolfie. If you were not mine, I am sure he would desire to court you.” 

“Dons can marry?” the inquisitive girl enquired. 

“Of course, and Lorcas is not a maiden, either,” Lanna replied smoothly.

“That is another way the education system is better here in Americos,” Arya chuckled, “but I do not think I would want Lorcas mooning over me. With Captain Saan constantly reminding me that Gendry surely misses me and with you lavishing me with attention, I have had my fill of romance, thank you.” 

\-------------------

Captain Saan came for dinner on the third night of Arya’s visit to Greenwood. The Otherys family was fascinated by the tales of the grizzled old mariner. Besides becoming rich as a merchant seaman and smuggler, Saan had also commanded a fleet of sellships and served with King Stannis Baratheon during wartime. However, he added that sailing with the wolf princess had been possibly the most exciting experience of all, and traveling to unknown lands with her had made his long life at sea all worthwhile. Captain Saan rolled his eyes and smirked that Arya’s companionship had been _most_ entertaining, without giving away any details. Arya blushed at the implications of his remarks.

Lanna’s parents listened with wonder to Captain Saan’s adventure tales and Arya’s comments, and Duchess Otherys finally asked, “Child, you have led a very interesting life. What are your future plans?” 

Arya wrinkled her brow and appeared indecisive, hesitantly volunteering, “My initial goal was to find the mythical ‘Edge of the World’, which I now believe does not exist, but I feel apprehensive about putting the lives of my devoted crewmen in danger by sailing into the Unknown again, having almost killed all of them by sailing to Americos in the first place.” She lowered her eyes now and murmured, “Mayhaps I do not have to travel westward anymore,” which caused Lanna to smile and squeeze her hand. But then Arya raised her eyes, slowly took in the other guests at table, Lorcas, Lewys and his family, and returned her gaze to Lanna’s parents, stating, “But I realize now that I miss _my_ family and would appreciate seeing them again, and I believe that many of my sailors are becoming homesick also.” Turning her face to Captain Saan, she continued, “And I am constantly reminded that a sweet boy desired to share his life with me and I admit that he captured a piece of my heart long ago. Mayhaps I owe it to him to attempt to return to Westeros, regardless the danger.” 

Lanna’s parents looked very intrigued by this last comment and Lanna interjected with some sadness in her voice, “I regret putting that very idea in wolfie’s head, for now I would selfishly have her stay here.” 

Arya smiled at Lanna and squeezed _her_ hand, sorrowfully responding, “Aye, I do not know what course of action to take next, but I suppose the best thing to do is to enjoy what I have right now.” 

Lanna laughed with delight, “Well then, sweetling, I will do my best to help you enjoy your sojourn in Americos!” 

That night Lanna made desperate, passionate love to her mate. Afterwards, as Arya lay in bed panting with exhaustion, Lanna nibbled at her teats and murmured wistfully, “Wouldst I could fuck a babe into you, for I believe you would not sail to possible death if you were a mother.” 

“Aye,” Arya replied in a distracted voice, “I would not risk a babe’s life to the high seas, but I have not considered becoming a mother yet.”

The next evening Lanna repeated the performance and before daylight arrived, the fatigued wolf princess became aware of tender and sweet kisses peppering her lips and teats as she slowly regained consciousness. She soon realized that the face pressed to her breasts was covered with a soft, downy beard. Half opening an eye, she recognized a familiar face and murmured sleepily, “Lorcas.” 

“Aye, it is me,” the boy replied passionately as he continued to nip at her lips and teats. “I think I love you, Arya.” 

It was too late to remonstrate; she was half-asleep and Lorcas was sweet, gentle, and closely resembled his sister, so Arya allowed him to arouse her with his mouth and hands, sighing, “I know.” The wolf girl moaned and opened her legs a little as he smoothly massaged her passage with two thick fingers, but when she felt the throbbing head of his manhood pushing into the entrance to her slit, gently parting her folds and preparing to burrow deeply into her cunny, she shifted her position and whispered, “Nae, Lorcas, I do not desire a babe right now.” 

Lorcas groaned wistfully and kissed her forehead. Arya felt the heat of his stiff cock and, not exactly sure what she should do, began to stroke it. Lorcas covered her smaller hand with his, and together they managed to give him some measure of satisfaction before he dressed and slipped from the chamber. As morning light began to fill the chamber, Arya saw that Lanna was on the other side of the bed wide awake, having witnessed the lovemaking. She moved in to kiss Arya gently, saying, “I told my brother to proceed slowly and give you every opportunity to decide whether or not to allow him to spill his seed inside of you. Although I feel some guilt at putting you in such a delicate position, I admit that I am a bit disappointed that you declined.” 

Arya kissed her back and replied, “I know that you love me and wish to keep me here, but I feel that I have more to accomplish before becoming a mother.”

\-------------------

Duke and Duchess Otherys were typical parents and had always hoped that Lanna would eventually agree to wed a fine young nobleman, but she had disappointed them early on by pursuing an adventurous life. However, every time she came home, they would arrange to have a welcoming dinner for the prodigal daughter, inviting all the family friends, especially the ones with marriageable sons. Alas, by the time Lanna acquired thirty namedays, most of the desirable men of her cohort had been wed, and they hoped the younger ones would be captivated by her beauty and not focus on her age. Lanna was amused by her parents’ machinations and did not thwart their efforts, but dressed impressively for the occasions and was very sociable with the men put before her. Of course, she made no effort to encourage any of them to try to develop a relationship with her.

When her parents informed her of the date of the usual gathering, Lanna thought it would be much fun to arrange for Arya to be the center of attention. She put the wolf girl’s chestnut tresses up in an elaborate and attractive hairstyle, found a striking iridescent green silk gown that perfectly complimented her athletic frame and accentuated her modest bosom and hips, subtly colored her full lips, and darkened her eyes with just enough kohl to set off her lovely prominent eyebrows. The younger girl looked into the glass and realized that she was now ‘a lordling’s dream’ and catching her mentor’s eyes, admitted, “Until I possessed eight namedays, my sister Sansa would happily fuss over me, pretending that I was one of her porcelain dolls. But then I started avoiding her and instead stole my brothers’ clothes, convinced that I would grow up to be a knight and not a lady. Sansa was very disappointed and complained to our lady mother, and we became more like enemies than sisters from that point on.”

As Lanna suspected, as the welcoming dinner proceeded, all the young men _did_ want lovely young Arya’s attention and competed to fill her dance card, especially the knights and lordlings she had bested in the practice yard, who were now eager for the opportunity to embrace her lithe figure. Lanna smirked that if Arya had done that at _her_ home, the reaction would have been the same. From the stories that Captain Saan told her, Arya’s young Westerosi lord, whom Lanna would love to meet, had certainly been taken by her natural beauty. 

Lorcas also found the opportunity to dance with Arya and as he gazed at her worshipfully and held her tightly, he murmured, having becoming bold enough to use his sister’s affectionate appellation for her, “Wolfie, I believe I am besotted with your beauty and spirit and can think of nothing else.”

With a smirk and flashing eyes, the wolf princess retorted, “Just like all these other men, you just want to fuck me.”

The young man flinched in surprise at her coarse words and protested, “I admit that having tasted your sweet favors, Arya, I crave to become more familiar with you, but I am sure that my attraction for you goes well beyond mere sex.”

Rolling her eyes, Arya replied, “A fierce and wise warrior woman I met in Westeros, called Lady Nymeria Sand, once told me that a man will proclaim to be intensely consumed with love for a woman until he finally penetrates her womb, and then, having done so, rapidly losses interest in her, as the allure has now faded.”

Lorcas appeared troubled and insisted, “I still believe that my feelings for you are real and deep, and I would not take you for granted.”

With a mischievous grin, the wolf girl countered, “Nevertheless, I think that I will continue to hold you at arm’s length and desperate. I find _you_ more interesting that way.” Lorcas groaned and Arya laughed, ordering, “Now go find another dance partner. Mayhaps someone more receptive to your advances.” 

\-------------------

“Gendry, it was very interesting, being the ‘belle of the ball’. Now I understand what Sansa was all about. I could not believe how those men fawned all over me.”

“Aye, I know what those men saw in you. When we first met, even though you were filthy, with badly-trimmed close-cropped hair, and dressed in ill-fitting boy’s clothing, I soon realized you were actually a very pretty girl. Under the dirt, your skin was too smooth and pale, your hands were small and your fingers were delicate, and your voice was a girl’s. When you admitted that you were highborn, it all made sense, because you spoke with the confidence of a noble, and bossed me around like one used to giving orders.”

Arya considered his words and appeared surprised; she had not known how obvious she had been to someone who had been curious about her. 

“But the men on the kingsroad with us must have been very stupid,” Gendry sneered, “for I was the first and only one to notice how sweet your little arse was in breeches; the other men must have been too thickheaded not to see this.”

The wolf princess scowled and punched her husband in the arm, as she usually did when he alluded to her ‘sweet little arse’.

But Gendry was not finished reminiscing, “As soon as you admitted that you were a lady and lived in a castle, I immediately began to imagine what you would have looked like all clean and sweet-smelling, with your hair long and coiled around your head and paint on your lips and eyes, and dressed in a silk gown with the skirts swishing around your legs. Aye, I understand what those lordlings of Americos saw; you must have been a vision.”

Arya blushed at the love in Gendry’s eyes as he spoke; she could never accept how besotted her husband was with her.

Now Gendry grinned as his memory offered more, “And when you shoved me to the ground whilst shouting, “Do _not_ call me milady!” and I watched you furiously stomping away, I am almost ashamed to say that my cock got hard.”

The wolf princess punched her husband in the shoulder again, but this time with enough force to really hurt him, exclaiming, “You pig! I was but a child then!”

As he winced and rubbed his injured arm, Gendry’s gaze was not quite apologetic, “Aye, but what a child! In truth, you were almost a woman grown, and I could see the fiery woman you would become. I knew at that moment that I wanted to be part of your life and nothing has changed since then. Now come here, all this talk has stirred me up and I want show you how much _I_ admire you!” 

\-------------------

Arya and Lanna remained at Greenwood for one delightful turn of the moon and the warrior woman took advantage of the opportunity to spar with worthy opponents which helped keep her skills sharp, practicing every morning following a delicious break fast. Lanna also kept her talent for swordplay fresh whilst at home. Lewys sparred with Arya frequently, japing and conversing with the younger girl, eventually becoming impressed with her wit, humor, and intelligence. “I can see why you were attracted to Arya,” he told his sister, “she is certainly a fascinating person.”

“And my wolfie is also a most _responsive_ bedmate,” the uninhibited mariner replied, waggling her eyebrows suggestively.

Rolling his eyes, Lewys groaned, “Too much information, sister dear.” 

Young Myria shyly watched Arya sparring from a railing, trying not to be noticed. Finally the wolf girl asked her if she would like to learn the basics of swordplay and the girl nodded vigorously. She was already taking dancing lessons, so Arya showed her how to apply what she knew to the Braavosi water dance and soon they were gracefully gamboling around the yard with practice swords in hand, having much fun. From a tower window Lanna, Meredyth, and the Duchess watched Arya demonstrate her lethal skills with swords, spears, and knives for both children in the training yard. Lanna related that _Nymeria’s_ sailors had described to her crew how their ‘milady’ had been an efficient killing machine during the pirate attack, ruthlessly sending numerous invaders to their doom without any thought of mercy. With awe in their voices, the mariners admitted that they believed the warrior woman could have successfully defended the ship on her own. The women considered the girl’s supposed bloodthirstiness, but were then surprised to see her performing acrobatic exercises and teaching the children how to drop and roll and to do cartwheels. Soon all three were laughing and giggling as they tumbled in the dirt, happily becoming quite filthy and deserving the scolding they received for soiling their clothes. 

Duchess Otherys ventured, “Lanna, for someone who has experienced so much darkness in her life, your young friend seems to be quite lighthearted at times.”

Lanna nodded in agreement, “Aye, mother, Arya told me that her father and older brother loved her dearly and told her frequently that she had the ability to accomplish anything she desired if she worked hard. For all her troubles, she believed that she would overcome and survive the challenges, and she has a great deal of self-confidence and pride.”

The voyager even took the children aboard _Nymeria_ and answered an exhaustive number of questions about her ship and sailing. The old seadogs were highly amused with the presence of youngsters and made them welcome also, gifting them with scrimshaw animals they had whittled, and entertaining them with tales of pirates, sea monsters, and other adventures on the high seas. 

\-------------------

Lewys Otherys owned a sweet little pinnace, nineteen feet long and rigged out as a sloop with one mast amidships, a triangular mainsail, and a standard jib as a foresail. One sunny and mild afternoon with a steady zephyr blowing out of the southeast, he took the children and Arya out into the Bay of Corinth for a sail. As Myria proudly showed her new friend how well she could handle a boat, Arya described what it was like to sail an outrigger canoe and explore coral reefs, as she had done during her visit to the tropical island on her voyage to Americos, occasionally murmuring, “You’re luffing, sweetling, fall off the wind by letting out the mainsheet,” or “Haul in the main, Myria, and you will increase our speed on this tack”.

Lewys was content to let the others maneuver the boat and relaxed in the pleasant breeze, sipping from a goblet of wine whilst watching the verdant coastline slipping by in the distance. He was amused by the smooth operation of his crew, for when Arya judged that the tack they were on was taking them too close to shore she alerted the children and then sang out, “Time to come about! Hard alee!” Myria shifted the tiller and took the pinnace through the wind, then quickly readjusted the mainsheets whilst Myles handled the foresail. Whenever the change in direction was complete and they observed that the boat had not lost any way, still sailing swiftly at a brisk clip, the crewmembers grinned at each other and announced their satisfaction and ‘Captain’ Lewys smiled.

As he relaxed to the sounds of the wind in the sails and the gentle slap of the waves on the hull, Lewys idly inspected his guest. There was no doubt that she was a remarkably beautiful young woman, yet she was attired modestly as a lad, wore no makeup, and her lovely chestnut tresses were bound in a simple braid. He had been amused by his sister’s efforts to fuss over Arya and make her appear like the royal princess that she was said to be, but it was obvious by her demeanor that the girl did not put on any haughty airs. However, Lewys admitted to himself that she was very easy on the eyes, both in face and figure, and he quite understood why Lanna was so infatuated with the unusual girl. She had instantly captured the heart of his younger brother Lorcas, and Lewys shook his head, considering, _what an awkward situation that would be!_

 _Nymeria’s_ sentimental sailors were never shy about affectionately bragging on their ‘milady captain’, and Lewys had learned that Arya was said to resemble her aunt, a woman so beautiful and bold, that two kings fell in love with her and started a war to possess her, resulting in the maiden’s death, as well as the deaths of one king and thousands of soldiers. Gazing at Arya, he concurred, _Aye, I could see men fighting for **her** hand, too. Arya’s story is much like a real fairy tale! _

His thoughts returned to his companions and, observing how well Arya interacted with his children, he reflected, _whether involved with Lorcas or Lanna, she would be a fine ‘auntie’ for Myria and Myles. She is also an excellent role model for my daughter._ Then he sighed inwardly, _I truly regret that she will soon leave Greenwood, and I know my sister will be brokenhearted when Arya eventually departs from Americos. Unfortunately, that is the lot of an adventurer._

As the afternoon wore on, the breeze began to freshen and waves pounded loudly on the hull. Myria was forced to grip the tiller with more force to maintain travelling at their exhilarating rate of speed over the water. However, despite the worried expression on her young face, the girl refused to relinquish her command to an adult and her knuckles had turned white from her tight grip on the helm. Arya just observed her carefully as the wind now fairly howled in the riggings and halyards, and she quietly loosened the mainsheets from the cleats, preparing to act rapidly. Myles was watching Arya with curiosity and she nodded for him to copy her actions. Suddenly, a powerful gust filled the sails and the small boat immediately heeled over, her leeward rail about to dip dangerously beneath the waves. Myria panicked and froze, her hands clinging tightly to the tiller. Arya urgently shouted, “Myles, release the jib!” and as soon as the lad did as ordered, she quickly unfastened the mainsheets, allowing the mainsail to flap freely in the wind. Before Lewys could stir, the experienced mariner was instantly by Myria’s side, forcefully removing the girl’s hands from the rudder and allowing it to swing freely. The pinnace returned to an upright position, bobbing slightly back and forth and dumping the wind from the sails, thus preventing the boat from taking on any water and sinking. As the trembling children regained their composure and control of the tiller and sails, both adults sighed in relief and Arya smiled nervously, “Let that be a lesson, children. The wind is fickle and has no respect for man nor woman.”

“Aye,” Lewys agreed, also a bit shaken, “One must always be prepared for surprises at sea. Mayhaps it is time to return to our dock. Thank you, Arya, for your quick thinking.”

“It was nothing, Lewys,” the wolf girl replied modestly, “my training has focused on swift and decisive action, especially when one’s life is in danger.”

Lewys raised his eyebrows and said in a questioning voice, “You must have had some interesting training.”

Arya smiled softly and answered mysteriously, “I could tell you stories….., but I won’t, at least not right now.”

\-------------------

Arya’s Faceless Man training had only improved her tree-climbing proficiency, and she enthusiastically scrambled into the fruit trees of the nearby orchards with Myles and Myria, harvesting the ripe and succulent produce and bringing their haul to the kitchens where the cooks would fondly reward the youngsters with sweet pasties, pies, and puddings. As they sat around the cozy kitchen table, Arya would tell the children about her delightful childhood in Winterfell, her brothers, the direwolves, the forge and the stable, old Nan, Hodor, and the Wolfswood. Myles and Myria listened raptly to her stories and prattled about their lessons. Lewys, Meredyth, and Lanna observed them and smiled, as Meredyth related that Arya seemed to have a genuine rapport with the children, and they were becoming fond of the intrepid adventurer. For her part, Arya had never spent much time with children before, and was beginning to enjoy the experience. In idle moments she began to wonder what it would be like to raise babes with Gendry, knowing he would welcome the opportunity. His desperate proposal to her long ago in Winterfell practically screamed that he desired to sire her babes. 

One day, when Arya and the children were sitting on the stout limb of a fruit tree fifteen feet above the ground, munching on juicy pears and swinging their legs contentedly, Myria sighed and ventured, “Arya, I wish you could stay in Greenwood forever.”

Arya replied gently, “Your Aunt Lanna and I plan to explore more of your country together, so we will soon sail away on our ships.” 

But the single-minded child would not be put off, “Uncle Lorcas looks at you the same way that Father looks at Mother. Why don’t you marry him and become our auntie? You could have babes and they would play with us.”

The startled wolf girl almost fell off the branch and found herself gripping it tightly as she thought of a response that would satisfy the child. Weighing her words very carefully, she replied, “Myria, it is very sweet of you to want me to be your auntie. Aye, your Uncle Lorcas has said that he is very fond of me, but I do not love him as your da loves your mum, and it would not be fair to him to marry him. Besides, since I have started to play with you and Myles, I realize that I miss my siblings and I want to see them again.” 

Myria’s brow wrinkled in thought as she processed Arya’s response and she finally replied, “Oh, I understand, Arya. You must be homesick and wish you could play with your brothers again like you play with us. If you are lonely, you _have_ to go home.” 

The adventurer recognized the truth in the child’s simple statement and sighed, “Aye, I _do_ want to go home.”

Myria reached over and patted Arya’s arm, consoling her, “I cannot imagine not having Myles to play with. I am sure that even Auntie Lanna and Uncle Lorcas would understand if you told them how much you need to see your brothers again."

Arya smiled sweetly at the perceptive girl and brightly replied, “I’ll wager that you are right, Myria.”

\-------------------

Whilst Arya and Lanna enjoyed themselves in Greenwood, the members of their crews appreciated their shore leave in Corinth, for the city was famous for fine food, numerous boutique breweries, and amusements such as music and theatre. The only complaint the old salts from _Nymeria_ could voice concerned the brothels, which were few in number and lacked imagination for entertainment because the city was also well-known for its family-friendly atmosphere.

Eventually it was time for the voyagers to return to sea again and emotional farewells ensued as Arya and Lanna prepared to depart. The Duchess found a private moment with the wolf princess and with tears running down her face, embraced her forcefully whilst kissing her cheeks, murmuring, “Sweetling, you are almost as another daughter to me now and I know that Lanna loves you fiercely. If you decide to stay in Americos, _please_ return to Greenwood. You will _always_ have a home here.”

Arya wiped her moist eyes as she returned the embrace, sighing, “You have been so good to me and I will never forget it. I will certainly return if it is possible.”

As sailors loaded the sea chests onto the longboat alongside the dock, the Otherys men were stoic during the departure, but Meredyth hugged Arya tightly and proclaimed that she had been delighted to make her acquaintance. Of course, it was difficult for the children to part with their peripatetic auntie and her fascinating friend, but Myria announced reasonably that it was important for Arya to visit her own family now. Lanna tried to hide a tear at the sage child’s words. 

Lorcas was going to accompany the travelers because Arya had made arrangements to return to Levant and serve briefly as a consultant at the military institute, lecturing about warfare in Westeros and the fighting styles she had mastered. Captain Saan had also been asked to speak about his sellship battles. The institutes devoted to history and culture also desired Arya to make presentations and engage in informal discussions during luncheons whilst she remained in the city and when she did so, she dressed in fine silks and Lorcas squired her around as though they were a betrothed couple, proud to walk by her side. The wolf princess was well aware of his affection for her and Lanna was amused by their play-acting. 

As they had boarded _Nymeria_ upon the departure from Greenwood, Arya had japed that Lorcas should not sneak into her bed again, for she did want to wake up with his cock inside of her. The lad blushed at the thought, for he surely would have loved to wake her up like that. Naturally, Lorcas was broken-hearted when Arya and Lanna eventually left Levant. Arya felt ill at ease with his obvious deep affection, and attempted to keep their separation as unemotional as possible, but it was still painfully awkward. As they sailed from the Levant harbor, Lanna sighed, “I hope that my dear little brother can overcome the love that he fostered for you. I know that I will certainly find it hard to part with you myself.” The ‘Adventurer’, who had begun her journey as a cold-hearted battle veteran, was at a loss for words, having acquired so many meaningful relationships on her journey thus far. 

\-------------------

“Gendry, we left Levant and sailed westward along the southern coastline, stopping in Malin again to resupply at the ship chandler. It was in the back of my mind that I wanted _Nymeria_ to be ready to head into unknown waters again. When we reached the southwestern cape, we tacked northwards and after exploring the western coast, Lanna and I sadly parted, as I recounted to you earlier.”

“You did not seek to explore the northern coastline?” her husband enquired. 

“Nae, it was said to be extremely cold and the waters infested with treacherous icebergs capable of destroying _Nymeria’s_ hull. I had no wish to endanger my ship.”

There was a pause, and with seemingly some hesitation, Arya asked, “Gendry, do you harbor any jealousy towards Lanna?”

Gendry appeared thoughtful and reflected for a long minute before answering, “Strangely enough, Nae. I think of her as my ally in wooing you. Lanna prepared you to return to Westeros, to find me again, and tried to convince you to marry me if I was still pining for you, as I was indeed. Wouldst I could thank her for her efforts.”

The new bride reflected on her present happiness and the babe in her belly, smiled and kissed his rough cheek, sighing, “I think the whole visit to Greenwood and the Otherys family prepared me to return to _my_ family and you. Aye, for as much as Lanna desired that I stay with her, she was certainly your champion.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was based on a simple, humorous idea I had and was originally intended to be much shorter. However, as I wrote it, the story became extended and I had to continue until it reached a satisfactory conclusion. I hope you like it.
> 
> Next: _Nymeria_ and crew enter the Narrow Sea. Westeros is nearby!


	13. The Narrow Sea

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The travelogue continues: _Nymeria_ and crew sail past the Disputed Lands, enter the Narrow Sea, navigate the Stepstones, and dock on the isle of Tyrosh.

Previously:

Arya enjoyed her visit to the pleasure island of Lys, where she learned the seductive art of belly dancing, intending to use her new skill to entertain Gendry when they were reunited. 

\-------------------

As _Nymeria_ departed Lys harbor on the morning tide, Arya strolled the deck observing the sailors of the duty watch going about their routine chores, casting off mooring lines from the piers, lowering the sails, adjusting the running rigging, clearing the deck and coiling ropes. The mate at the helm shouted out orders and was rewarded with cheerful responses from the men. Arya listened to their lighthearted banter and noted the grinning faces as they worked, occasionally hearing a melodious voice belting out a familiar ditty. As their leader walked by each seaman, they would pause in their tasks, fix her with a broad smile, dip their heads slightly whilst touching two fingers to their foreheads, and mutter reverently, “Milady.” Arya understood that by now her devoted seafarers respected her as a fearless fighter and bold commander, and were most grateful that she had led them on an astonishing and dangerous voyage around the whole of Planetos. They were the first to meet the inhabitants of the continent on the far side of the world, and now they were approaching their port of origin. Few mariners could boast of such a feat, and they were proud of both themselves and their lovely liege lady. 

The wolf princess realized that the men were all well aware that the Narrow Sea was close by and they were becoming eager to see familiar landmarks again. They had experienced an exciting and momentous journey, but almost three years had passed since they last set foot on Westerosi soil and the long absence had made their memories of home and loved ones more precious. 

As Arya reflected on the mood of her crew she realized that she had also begun to yearn for home. Three of her family yet lived and if the gods were good, she would be reunited with her dear brother Bran within three months. If she desired, _Nymeria_ could transport her to the North to see Jon, and she could also ride to Winterfell to visit Sansa. The sisters had parted as friends and there was affection between them now. The she-wolf was keen to tarry amongst her pack again.

And then there was the question of Gendry. If Captain Saan and Ser Davos were truthful, the stubborn bullheaded boy was patiently waiting for her at Storms End, convinced that she would return to him on her own accord. The closer Arya sailed to Westeros, the more uneasy she became as she considered her rejected lover. She knew that Gendry would desire to wed her and plant his seed as quickly as possible after waiting for so long, and now she was hesitant to initiate the process. The bold adventurer would rather face wicked pirates than Gendry’s hopeful, expectant countenance and bright blue eyes. Arya sighed, thinking, _I must stop brooding and simply ride to the Stormlands. Mayhaps we will have a future together and mayhaps not, but I need to find the courage to learn what the fates have in store for me._

Arya leaned against the starboard rail of _Nymeria,_ vaguely scanning the terrain slipping by on the shoreline. She welcomed a distraction from the nagging conundrum that Gendry presented to her conscience. After more than thirty moons at sea, the rhythmic sounds of the waves slapping the hull of the ship and the wind fluttering the sails were most soothing to her troubled mind, and she reflected that once she became a landlubber again, she would miss the comforting music of the sea.

The adventurer diverted her thoughts from her internal misgivings by training her glass on the unfamiliar scenery, noting that the land was flat and featureless. The predominant color was brown with scattered hints of dull green, and she discerned wisps of smoke rising from intermittent smoldering fires. Her inspection revealed that there were no animals within view and the vegetation was predominantly clumps of dead grasses. There were no buildings to be seen, only a few ruins. If Arya was to describe the landscape with one word, it would be “cursed”. 

Captain Saan joined her at the rail, and when the wolf princess turned and nodded an acknowledgement, he volunteered, “We are heading for the Stepstones, the dense chain of islands that separate Westeros from Essos. There will be treacherous sailing, for we must be watchful for the rocky islets that can stove in _Nymeria’s_ hull. Some of these deadly obstacles do not even break the surface of the sea.” Arya nodded again and returned her gaze to the shoreline, enquiring as she pointed, “Why is the countryside so desolate?” 

Her Lyseni navigator frowned and replied, “That bleak region is called the Disputed Lands, princess. The domain lies between the Free Cities of Lys, Myr, and Tyrosh, and all three have colonized parts of it. For several centuries, each state has claimed ownership of the district and many battles have been fought for its possession. Even Volantis has been drawn into the conflict at times. Long ago it was prosperous and fertile, but now it is a wasteland because the three states have been unable to agree on the boundaries of their provinces.” Captain Saan sighed, “Since all attempts to fix borders have failed, the smallfolk have suffered continually from marauding sellsword armies. Farmers and villagers flee the land and few people struggle to maintain a livelihood in that ill-fated place.” 

Arya had listened carefully and slowly asked her Lyseni mentor, “What is your stance on this issue, Captain?”

With almost a belligerent gleam in his eye, Captain Saan’s pursed his lips and retorted, “The Lyseni and the Myrish have always been enemies. The Myrish are a vain people, believing themselves superior to their neighbors because they are very talented in crafting glass and textiles and have an ancient and noble lineage. They are an insufferable people and their claim to the Disputed Lands is weak.”

The adventurer chuckled with a half-smile, “That is exactly the answer I expected.” Then with a curious tone, “Will we stop at Myr, Captain?”

“Nae, milady, look at the chart when you go below. Myr lies too far from our projected route to King’s Landing. However, we _will_ stop at the isle of Tyrosh. I think you will enjoy seeing the marketplace.”

Upon reaching the southwestern cape of Essos, _Nymeria_ turned to the north and carefully navigated the many hazardous rocky islands of the Stepstones and the curious wolf princess studied them through her glass. Some were fairly large and covered with vegetation and obviously inhabited, with flocks of sheep and goats and square fenced agricultural fields, but not really of much interest to the adventurer. When Tyrosh finally came into view two moons after leaving Lys, Randyll, the first mate, shouted his announcement from the helm, which was answered by members of the duty watch as they trimmed the sails to set a direct course for the isle.

Arriving from below decks and moving to the bow, Captain Saan smiled at Arya and ventured, “Those gleeful cries indicate that we have left the dangerous waters of the Stepstones to our stern, and from this point on, the Narrow Sea poses few obstacles to the ship’s passage.” Then he waggled his eyebrows suggestively and snickered, “And every day we will sail closer to your patient admirer, who dreams of the day that he will wed and bed you.”

Arya snorted and raised her glass to her eye, preferring to view Tyrosh and deliberately ignore the captain’s cheeky remark. _Nymeria_ sailed past a huge tower as she entered the harbor and Captain Saan remarked, “That is the Bleeding Tower, a notable landmark.” The she wolf observed that beyond the wharves, the city itself appeared to be quite large and was surrounded by the highest walls she had ever seen, rendering it a virtual fortress. 

After docking and negotiating the harbor fees, Arya peered from the deck and observed that adjacent to the waterfront, the boulevard was lined with a multitude of temples and shrines. Her loyal companion Renwick joined her at the rail and pointed out, “The Tyroshi as a people do not favor one god or another, milady, but individually choose amongst the many available whom to worship.” 

Disembarking from _Nymeria,_ and with Renwick and Hargrove in tow, Arya entered the city, observing that the inner walls were composed of a shiny black material which reflected the intense sunlight and producing a painful glare to the beholder. As Arya squinted and shaded her eyes with her hand, Renwick volunteered, “The wall are constructed of fused dragonglass, milady. It is a most unique feature of the port.” Arya could not help but remember Gendry at the forge in Winterfell, melting and shaping dragonglass into weapons. The memory of how her old friend’s ardent glances stirred her blood when they had reunited after four long years served to fluster her in the present day and she wondered if they would truly share another meaningful reunion. 

Captain Saan had told Arya that she would find the marketplace entertaining, and she was eager to explore it. The first thing that impressed the adventurer was the variety of elaborate and colorful clothing and jewelry worn by both genders. Expensive Myrish silk was more common than wool, and gold flashed on every hand, arm, and neck. Even the hats were larger and more fanciful than anything she had ever seen. All of the Tyroshi men wore bizarre hair, side whiskers, mustaches, and beard styles, which were dyed in hues drawn from an astonishingly diverse color palate. Scarlet, green, blue, purple, and vermillion, were all popular colors. 

The captain had referred to the Tyroshi as ‘loud, vain, and foolish peacocks’, concerned mainly with their physical appearance. This could have been the result of the island having attaining great wealth from of a rare local sea snail from which a highly coveted rich purple dye could be obtained. The snail was also the source for the dyes of other brilliant colors, and the inhabitants of Tyrosh celebrated their good fortune by displaying the pigments everywhere. Arya studied the variety of dyes in the marketplace stalls and considered changing her own hair color as a diversion. _I wonder what I would look like with pale purple hair,_ she pondered. The bold adventurer fingered her braid as she inspected a dish of the appropriate tint closely and Renwick nervously spoke up, as though he was reading her mind, “Er, milady, do you really think that is a good idea?”

Smiling at her perceptive companion, Arya replied, “But aren’t my brown tresses rather _boring,_ Renwick?”

“Ah, but you would _never_ be boring, milady!” Renwick responded with a smile, pleased with his own wit. 

Arya laughed and motioned for the vendor to approach, “Mayhaps, but I still think I will purchase some dye for the future, in case I change my mind.”

Moving on, the mariners savored the strong smell of spices, particularly garlic and roasted peppers, as they wandered amongst the many food stalls, displaying ingredients from all over Essos and beyond, and the trio laughed as Hargrove’s stomach began to growl. “Mayhaps we should find a pot shop soon, eh, sailor?” Arya smirked, and the old salt blushed but nodded agreement.

Leaving the center of the marketplace, Arya was excited to wander on the street of armorers, glimpsing the most elaborate armor and helmets she had ever seen anywhere, many of which were fashioned with the images of animals and composed of shiny precious metals. The craftsmen also designed beautiful swords and she thought, _Oh! How I wish Gendry could witness these wares with me,_ but to the critical eye of the experienced warrior woman, all the fancy adornments simply rendered the blades less effective as instruments of death. _Gendry would also sneer at all these useless frills,_ she mused.

By the time the sun was high in the sky, the sightseers finally decided to tend to Hargrove’s complaining stomach. Both Arya and Renwick were also beginning to feel peckish so they located a bakery, which was emitting the most enticing of wonderful odors. The trio entered the door with their noses raised high to inhale the fragrant aromas. The shopkeeper took one look at their simple garb and welcomed them, “You are obviously visitors to the city, friends. I recommend that you sample the delicacy for which Tyrosh is famous, and _mine_ are the best you will find.” The woman was obviously the baker herself, for her hands and apron were dusted with flour. She held out a tray of small pastries, glazed cylinders of fried dough dusted with a mixture of cinnamon and sugar. “These are our honeyfingers,” the baker proudly announced. 

Arya had never required much encouragement to indulge in sweet treats and straightaway selected a cake, quickly taking a bite. Her grey eyes widened in surprise and then slowly closed as her head slumped back, her cheeks took on a rosy glow, and she emitted a loud and extended satisfied moan of delight, “Oooooh!” Renwick and Hargrove were startled and immediately made eye contact with each other. Once or twice in their lives, mostly spend at sea, the grizzled old mariners had enjoyed the opportunity, skill, and privilege of bringing a willing woman to her peak of pleasure, and Arya’s reaction to tasting the honeyfinger implied that the lovely maiden was experiencing an orgasm right before their astonished eyes. Thoroughly embarrassed, the sober sailors looked away from their liege lady, cherishing what they had witnessed, but completely unnerved by such an intimate and unguarded vision. 

As they nibbled on the delicious cakes, the seamen chose not to comment on milady’s obvious ecstasy, but the baker saw her reaction and giggled behind her hand. Her roguish husband, who had been ogling Arya’s trim figure, sniggered, “Well, I am _delighted_ that our wares have so pleased you, lass.” The baker now became aware of how her husband’s eyes had raked over the oblivious young girl’s curves and punched him in the arm for his uncouth behavior. 

The three voyagers continued to explore the city, now nonchalantly strolling by the impressive Fountain of the Drunken God in the central plaza, all happily munching on the irresistible honeyfingers and gazing at the architecture. The impetuous maiden with an insatiable sweet tooth had considered buying up _all_ the cakes in the shop, but sensibly settled for a sack of three dozen, which Hargrove was carrying. As Arya was working on her fourth honeyfinger, idling musing, _Sansa would love these cakes,_ she felt a hand firmly squeeze her arse. Swiftly whirling around, she spied three leering _bravos_ with outlandish hair styles and colors, seemingly pleased with the pretty girl’s irritated countenance. Snapping instantly into Faceless Man mode, the warrior woman powerfully kicked her unsuspecting attacker in the chest. His mouth flew open in surprise as he lost his balance and awkwardly toppled backwards, right into the fountain. Out of the corner of her eye, Arya saw the second _bravo_ with his hand on the hilt of his sword, so she continued spinning and swiftly swung her muscular leg up to smack him hard on the left side of his face. As the Tyroshi landed on his back, almost knocked unconscious by force of her potent blow, she rushed to third _bravo,_ who was frozen in place staring at the unexpected mêlée, and jammed her sticky honeyfinger into his eyes, momentarily blinding him. Then with another Faceless Man move, Arya slammed her flat palm against his chest, knocking the wind out of his lungs, and followed up with a knee to his groin. He dropped to his knees, groaning in pain. 

The dripping wet _bravo_ who had instigated the confrontation was now awkwardly climbing out of fountain whilst trying to unsheathe his sword. Arya hissed, “If you dare to draw your weapon on me, you will not live to see another sunset, you fool!” as she kicked him in the chest once more and he fell back into the fountain with a loud splash. With a gaping mouth and a stupid countenance, the confused young man stared at her from his partially submerged position as she spun around again to knock over the third _bravo,_ who was cradling his privates and had almost regained his feet. The second _bravo_ was still on the ground, shaking his damaged head and moaning. The skirmish had ended so quickly that Renwick and Hargrove barely had the time to fully unsheathe their cutlasses and now simply stared at the conquered men, who appeared beaten and completely harmless. 

The imperious wolf princess stood tall in triumph over the humiliated figures, brandishing her sword on the remote chance that any of the _bravos_ would be foolish enough to challenge her again. She looked from one to the other and snarled, “Idiots! How dare you molest me?! You are fortunate that I did not end your worthless lives!”

The _bravo_ who had been overly friendly eyed her wicked blade as he cautiously climbed out of the fountain, shaking excess water from his hair, clothes, and boots. “A thousand pardon, my lady,” he began to apologize obsequiously; “I confess that I had been overwhelmed by your beauty and lost my senses. I was desperate to make your acquaintance and merely attempted to gain your attention.” It was obvious that Arya was displeased with his words, for her eyes narrowed and her prominent eyebrows formed a threatening ‘V’ on her forehead. She scowled and pointed Needle at the brash young man’s chest, indicating that he was not out of danger.

Attempting to salvage the situation, preserve his life, ( _and_ mayhaps still befriend the fetching maiden), the _bravo_ bowed deeply and began again, casting his eyes towards Renwick and Hargrove also, “Truly, I am most repentant, my lady, and I sincerely regret spoiling your outing with such a rude introduction to Tyroshi manners. My name is Myrio Myrakis, and I beg of you to let me atone for my impolite behavior by escorting you and your kinfolk to the closest appropriate inn where I would be honored to share our highly acclaimed Tyroshi pear brandy with you.” His companions were now on their feet and inspecting their wounds, appearing quite humble as they nodded in agreement and were relieved that the sailors had sheathed their blades. One of them pointed to an inn with a sign bearing the words ‘The Prancing Pony’ and a painted horse, which was located across the square. Myrio bowed again and indicated that he would lead the way if the lovely girl obliged.

Arya stuck Needle into her belt and studied the foolhardy young man. He was much like the outlandish men of Tyrosh that ‘Cat of the Canals’ had met whilst selling clams and oysters on the docks of Braavos. She recalled that it was a rude Tyroshi sailor who had called down to her for the price of the clam between her legs once. Not only was the remark inappropriate, but the girl not even flowered yet! To her curious eyes, Myrio Myrakis posed a most interesting figure. His shoulder-length hair was neatly trimmed and dyed a striking shade of deep blue, but his mustachios and goatee were purple. When he flashed a charming smile, his even teeth were a bright white and one lower incisor was covered in gold foil. Arya observed that he was certainly handsome in a flamboyant way and could understand why he was so confident that any woman would be flattered by his attention. She remembered that Queen Daenerys had been smitten with a very similar Tyroshi sellsword. 

Aware of her curiosity and the fact that the dangerous maiden no longer appeared aggressive, Myrio smiled invitingly and inquired, “Might I know your name, my lady? I was serious when I said that I was _desperate_ to make your acquaintance.” 

Arya decided it would be better to remain incognito for the present time and coolly replied, “You may call me ‘Cat’. And _do not_ call me ‘my lady’.” 

Myrio’s smile widened and he countered with a japing tone of voice, “Ah, I would prefer to call you ‘Tigress’ for your beauty, grace, and deadly nature. You are a most _fascinating_ lass, Cat!” 

Arya smirked and laughed, and the melodious timbre of her voice caused Myrio’s heart to beat faster, “You can save your honeyed words for a more gullible maid, Myrio, for I will certainly never _fuck_ you!” 

Now it was Myrio’s turn to laugh and he shook his head, “Well, you cannot fault me for trying, my dear Cat.”

Names were exchanged all around, and soon the new acquaintances were smacking their lips over goblets of sweet pear brandy. The _bravos_ noted the sailor’s cotton duck garb and cutlasses, and concluded that Cat’s companions were men of the sea. Kem, whose hair and beard were green, asked Renwick, “My man, might either of you be the maiden’s father?” 

Renwick and Hargrove shook their heads vigorously in the negative, and Renwick loudly announced with a bit of pride in his voice, “Nae, she is our captain and commander!” The _bravos_ gazed at the sailor with blatant curiosity, hoping to learn more, but Arya caught his attention and indicated with raised eyebrows not to reveal any more details. The three _bravos_ looked to have seen less than thirty namedays and at first appeared to be very arrogant and boisterous, but as they all conversed, became more friendly and affable. As expected for men of their age, Renwick noted that they continued to furtively admire milady’s lovely figure. The grizzled sailor did volunteer, changing the subject, “We have been on a long voyage to the east, and are returning now to King’s Landing after an absence of three years.”

The third _bravo,_ Jokin, whose hair, beard, and prominent side-whiskers were dyed scarlet, spoke up now, “Aha! I was in King’s Landing not three moons past!” 

Hargrove piped up, “What news can you share?”

Jokin grinned, “I had been to that city before the war also, and noticed a remarkable change on my recent visit: King’s Landing no longer smells like shit!”

When the laughter died down, Jokin continued, “Aye, it seems that the new king and his Hand had made piping in fresh water and removing sewage their first priority, and they have been successful. The residents are most pleased.”

There was more chuckling and Jokin added, “King Bran the Crippled and the Imp are using Lannister gold and Tyrell foodstuffs to pay off old King Robert’s debts, and the lenders in Braavos, Pentos, Myr, and Tyrosh are most happy.” His face took on a sly expression, “There is more money available for sellswords now.” 

Arya was dying to ask after Sansa and Jon, but bit her lip, not wanting to reveal her family name. Kem took up the thread now, stating, “Aye, the news out of Westeros was more exciting before King Bran was crowned, and the mummers’ shows were first rate, what with war, murder, treachery, incest, kinslaying, poisonings, and betrayals making for much entertainment. Things have calmed down these past three years and even reports out of the ravaged North have been boring. The writers of farces are depressed for lack of material and plays are less interesting.”

Myrio raised his goblet as if making a toast and japed, “Aye, who would want a long and uneventful life? I drink to a short but exciting one!”

Knowing his liege lady’s concern, Renwick casually asked Jokin how the North fared. Arya learned that Sansa was busy with her task of rebuilding Winterfell, but with the harsh winter over, life was improving for the inhabitants. Jon Targaryen was alive and sometimes referred to as the ‘King of the Wildlings’.

Trying to appear disinterested, the wolf princess finally gave in to her curiosity and asked, “And what news of the Stormlands?” 

“Ah, now _that_ is an interesting story!” Jokin replied, “The new Lord Baratheon is the bastard son of randy old King Robert, an upjumped armorer who keeps to himself. He is a modest man whose main concern is improving the welfare of his smallfolk, for having been raised in Flea Bottom; he knows firsthand how harsh life can be for the poor. The most curious thing is that this young man has refused to marry, even when he has been offered the hand of every tempting maiden in his kingdom.”

The pear brandy had loosened Kem’s tongue, and he leered, “The lad is surely a fool! If I was in his shoes, I would have a different lass warming my bed _every_ night!”

Unable to contain her interest, Arya blurted out, “You are certain that he is unwed?” 

Myrio was roused by her attention to the topic and smirked, “Why so concerned, Cat? Do you wish to tempt the lad, my bold tigress? Do you consider this lord a challenge?” 

Renwick was in _his_ cups also and forgot himself, loudly stating, “Nae! The young lord has _already_ proposed to milady!” Then he gulped and slapped his hand over his mouth, realizing what he had done. He lowered his eyes and muttered, obviously dismayed, “Beg pardon, princess, I wasn’t thinking.” 

The _bravo’s_ gaze swiveled from Arya to Renwick and then back to Arya again. He smiled with mischief and recognition and grinned, “Oh ho! The ‘cat’ is out of the bag! You are not simply a privateer; you _are_ a highborn lady of Westeros. Am I correct, my dear Cat?”

Arya was uncomfortable and embarrassed, but she couldn’t be angry with devoted Renwick. Now that the truth about her identity was out, she pursed her lips and grudging admitted, “Aye, Lord Baratheon is an old friend who desired to wed me following the Battle of the Long Night. However, when the war ended I was very distraught and needed to get away. I chose to outfit a ship and sail into the unknown with no expectations of returning alive. Besides, as I have demonstrated by easily besting you three sellswords, I am _not_ a typical lady, content to sit in a lord’s castle, sewing and bearing his babes.”

Myrio was intrigued with the confession of this beautiful young woman dressed in the garb of a soldier complete with well-used blades in her belt, and after raking his eyes over her shapely figure once more, retorted, “You are definitely not a typical lady, Cat.”

Jokin had been listening closely and stared at Arya, “I must ask, milady, what did your man Renwick mean by calling you ‘princess’?”

Arya sighed, as she had no wish to reveal so much information, but it was too late now, “I am a Stark of Winterfell and my sister is the Queen of the North. Although I do not encourage them, my crewmen like to refer to me as ‘the wolf princess’.”

Myrio chuckled, “So the cat is actually a wolf, eh? That makes more sense as you have the ferocity of the sigil of your House.”

“Aye, the words of my House are ‘Winter is coming’, and I have brought winter to many men’s lives. I prefer to be feared rather than loved or admired,” the she-wolf replied grimly.

The pear brandy was only beginning to assuage Kem’s headache from being kicked so hard in the head, and he winced, “Well, I for one fear you now, lass, and have no desire to face you in combat.” 

Praise for her skill as a warrior was her one weakness when it came to flattery and Arya smiled at his words. Seeking to take advantage of her good mood, inquisitive Myrio ventured, “Cat, you say that you would rather be feared than loved, yet I deduce that your interest in that young lord at Storm’s End has more to do with latter, rather than the former.” His hinting at romance and sex caught his companions’ attention, and the two sellswords grinned at the wolf girl.

Arya slowly nodded, “I am on my way home now, and I am curious what awaits me after three years. I find it strange that Gendry, for he was called Gendry Waters when I knew him, should wait so long for my unlikely return, especially since he obviously had more reasonable options.” 

Myrio’s face softened with recently acquired affection and he quietly muttered, “ _I_ would wait for you.”

Save for Gendry, the warrior woman always felt uncomfortable with the gaze of adoring men, and even Gendry’s loving expression had made her feel more vulnerable than she liked. Now she simply laughed, “Nae, Myrio, for men like you, one pleasant evening in a brothel will dispel any lingering romantic thoughts for a few days. Have yourself serviced tonight and you will have forgotten about me by the morrow!” 

The temporarily besotted sellsword was about to protest his constancy, but instead grinned, “Mayhaps you are right, Cat, I shall conduct an experiment later today.” 

Leaving the ‘Prancing Pony’ as the sun moved towards the horizon, the two parties bade farewell and Myrio bent to kiss Arya’s hand. He stood up straight and paused, giving her a significant look and suggested, “Princess, if you have a need for sellswords, mayhaps my companions and I would be pleased to accompany you.”

Arya had to admit to herself that she was seriously flattered and laughed in Daenerys’ sweet tinkling voice, responding in the negative. Myrio’s face expressed disappointment as he turned to leave. The adventurer ruminated, _When did I become such a coquette?_ Before Myrio had moved very far, Arya impulsively reached out and firmly grabbed _his_ arse. When the startled sellsword spun around to face her, she sniggered, “Turnabout is fair play, Myrio.” 

He nodded and smiled, “Anytime, Cat, anytime.” Though his heart was heavy, Myrio turned again and walked away with a jaunty swagger and a whistle. His companion Jokin knew him well and observed, “I see that the maiden has _really_ affected you.” The _bravo_ responded with a barely perceptible nod of the head. 

_Nymeria_ left the port of Tyrosh and the sailors were all in good moods as they trimmed the sails or lounged on the deck. They were still chuckling over a practical jape that Alyn had played on Wyl, dyeing his beard a bright green whilst he slept off an excess of ale. The mariners had enjoyed many of the delights of the pleasure island and were now on the last leg of their journey, eager to see Westeros again. Arya leaned on the bow railing, listening to the crash of the waves on the hull and staring into the distance, elated as well as nervous and wondering, _What will it really be like to be in King’s Landing again?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Belaboring the obvious: So Arya studied the dyes in the marketplace and considered changing her hair color to light purple. Does this ring a bell?
> 
> Is anyone familiar with the Prancing Pony? Hint: Halflings quaff beer there.
> 
> Next: Docking in King’s Landing and several reunions.


	14. Arrival in King's Landing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nymeria’s crew is eager to dock in King’s Landing as they cross the Narrow Sea. Arya has her first reunion.

Previously:

 _Nymeria_ left the port of Tyrosh and the sailors were all in a good mood as they trimmed the sails or lounged on the deck. They were still chuckling over a practical jape that Alyn had played on Wyl, dyeing his beard a bright green whilst he slept off an excess of ale. The mariners had enjoyed many of the delights of the pleasure island and were now on the last leg of their journey, eager to see Westeros again. Arya leaned on the rail of the bow, listening to the crash of the waves on the hull and staring into the distance, elated as well as nervous and wondering, _What will it really be like to be in King’s Landing again?_

\-------------------

On the Narrow Sea

One hundred leagues north of Tyrosh, the adventurer stood at her usual spot at the bow railing and spied a large island far to the west through her glass. Captain Saan strolled up and she cast him a questioning expression. Her experienced navigator informed her, “Tis the isle of Tarth, milady, and Storm’s End lies about fifty leagues across Shipbreaker Bay beyond it.” Arya recalled that Ser Brienne, her brother’s Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, hailed from Tarth, and how pleased the she-wolf had been that the formidable warrior had been granted a post traditionally reserved for men. That action alone had given Arya hope that attitudes about a woman’s place in society could change in Westeros. 

Turning her attention to the mention of Storm’s End, she asked her captain, “Is it possible to sail directly to the Stormlands from here?”

Captain Saan looked doubtful, “It _is_ possible, but I do not recommend it. Shipbreaker Bay is a treacherous place for sailors. There are frequent storms and strong winds that have capsized many a vessel or driven them to their doom on the sea cliffs of the mainland. As a young man, Robert Baratheon witnessed _Windproud,_ the ship that was carrying his parents back from a voyage to Volantis, tragically sink before his very eyes in Shipbreaker Bay. I suggest that _Nymeria_ proceed directly to King’s Landing for a much safer landfall.” Arya nodded in understanding.

The carrack continued sailing on a northerly tack, and when Tarth was almost a hundred leagues to the southwest, _Nymeria_ was approached by a galley bearing a pennant indicating that it hailed from the Free City of Pentos. Both the adventurer and her navigator gazed at it with interest, for whilst in Tyrosh, Captain Saan had received a message from Illyrio Mopatis of that very port. Long ago when Robert’s Rebellion commenced following the murder of mad King Aerys II Targaryen, the fabulously wealthy merchant served as host to ill-fated Prince Rhaegar’s exiled siblings and helped them find military support for their cause, hoping to benefit by their reclamation of the Iron Throne. Unfortunately, he had backed the wrong horse in that race, and with all the Targaryens deceased, would be required to ingratiate himself with the new rulers of the stable kingdom now that the war was over. 

Illyrio had learned that Princess Arya Stark of Westeros was exploring the major cities of Essos and would soon pass Pentos on her journey back to King’s Landing. The magister, as one of the rulers of the Free City, desired to discuss trade arrangements between Pentos and the new government, and had several proposals to present to King Bran. Illyrio had previously met the Hand of the King, Tyrion Lannister, and believed that the clever Imp had a nose for profit and would be receptive to his plans. He also hoped that he could impress the young king’s sister and convince her to support his propositions when she returned to King’s Landing.

The merchant’s message had invited the bold traveler to stop in Pentos and partake of the delicacies and entertainment available in his fabulous palace whilst discussing his proposals. However, after consulting her captain, Arya concluded that Pentos was located too far to the east to visit if _Nymeria_ was to head directly for King’s Landing. Upon receiving her decision to pass up on the invitation, Illyrio resolved to embark on one of his numerous vessels and intercept Princess Arya on the Narrow Sea before _Nymeria_ tacked westward into Blackwater Bay. Transferring from one ship to another in the open ocean was unthinkable for the corpulent magister, so he requested that Arya and Captain Saan board his galley when it came alongside _Nymeria._

Climbing upon the deck of the galley, Arya’s first reaction was to view the slaves at the oars with distaste, which immediately put her in a sour mood. But her first impression of Magister Illyrio was even more repellent to the opinionated young woman. The overweight merchant was reclining on a pile of soft pillows as he fed on sweet treats offered by his concubines, a group of scantily-clad children, beautiful boys and girls, scarcely past the age of puberty. Arya was familiar with Lord Wyman Manderly of White Harbor, a vassal of House Stark, who was so fat that he could not mount a horse and even few huge destriers could bear his bulk. Magister Illyrio was even more portly; in fact he was so morbidly obese that two powerful male slaves were required to lift him from his pillows into a standing position, and that exertion alone was so taxing that he was perspiring profusely when he rose, attempting to disguise the odor of his sweating body with excessively cloying perfumes.

The merchant’s weight problem did not seem to affect his libidinous nature however, for he was intrigued with Arya and lewdly gazed at her with his beady eyes whilst licking his lips and purring, “Ah, princess, well met! You are even more beautiful than the accolades that have reached my ears from other travelers. I feel honored to have the pleasure of making your acquaintance.” Magister Illyrio actually believed that his words would flatter the young noblewoman. He continued, his eyes still roving over the wolf girl’s slim figure, “I have brought gifts, worthy of such exquisite beauty: Fine wines, delectable cheeses, and well-crafted gold jewelry.” He raised an arm and snapped his fingers as a host of slaves presented the gifts to her. 

Arya laughed and personally accepted the cheeses, calling out to her almost constant companion, Renwick. Although the old salt sometimes caused her embarrassment, by this point in her journey the young woman could not imagine experiencing any new adventure without her loyal retainer by her side. “Renwick!” she smirked, “I believe that _you_ most of all will enjoy these delicacies.” The wolf girl handed the packages to the sailor when he approached and his eyes widened in surprise and then rolled to the back of his head as he inhaled the luxurious aromas of the cheeses.

“Thank you, milady, I am overwhelmed!” the seaman gushed, appearing for all the world as though he had been granted a castle of his own to rule.

“Do not thank me, Renwick,” Arya grinned, “thank our thoughtful benefactor, Magister Illyrio,” inclining her head in the merchant’s direction. As the coarse sailor impulsively rushed to the haughty man and gratefully shook his hand, Illyrio attempted to hide his distaste for being required to interact with such a common personage. Arya was totally enjoying the situation, having intended to discomfit the pompous magister. 

Illyrio recovered his composure and presented the wolf princess with his last gift, a linen Qartheen gown, exquisitely embroidered and distinctively designed to expose one breast. With an obviously lustful expression he pronounced, “I believe that you will appear particularly attractive in this fine garment.” 

Arya remembered that Xaro Xhoan Daxos, a merchant prince of Qarth had also requested that she wear such a gown in his presence. The warrior woman found Illyrio absolutely repulsive and his lecherous gaze alone made her feel unclean. She felt the immediate need for a hot bath. Arya frowned at him and moved to reject the gift, disdainfully snapping, “I find the style to be unseemly and insulting.” Waving away the servant holding the gown, she coldly continued, “I shall deliver your proposals to my brother, Magister, but you simply could have sent them directly to King Bran. You have wasted your time sailing to make my acquaintance.” 

The unperturbed magister smiled suggestively and retorted, “Nae, princess, you are wrong, it _was_ worth the effort to meet you in the flesh.” Arya shivered with loathing and stalked away, leaving her captain to complete the formal farewells. 

_Nymeria_ finally arrived at the latitude for beginning the approach to King’s Landing and was about to tack into Blackwater Bay when the ship was greeted by a strong westerly wind coming out of the Gullet. The wind-generated waves out of the bay were so powerful that they pounded the hull forcefully and pushed the ship backwards. Captain Saan declared, “Milady, we cannot sail into this wind. I suggest that we turn south and wait out this storm. We could resupply at the chandler also.” Following the coastline of the peninsula of Massey’s Hook, _Nymeria_ docked at the port of Stonedance. Shore leave was granted to the off-duty watch and the relieved sailors hurried to the nearest inn. News of the singular voyage of _Nymeria_ and her crew had already preceded them to ports on the Narrow Sea from other ships out of Essos. Bellying up to the bar and requesting pints of ale, Arya the Adventurer’s crewmen were surprised to learn that they would never again have to pay for a drink at any waterfront tavern. All they had to do was to announce that they sailed around the world with the wolf princess on the fabled carrack _Nymeria,_ and the patrons would eagerly ply them with drinks in exchange for stories of their journey. There was also a fascination with their renowned leader, and as their tongues would become lubricated, they would find themselves exaggerating her beauty, skills, and accomplishments. Arya would have been annoyed if she had heard them speaking thusly, especially when they described in detail her imaged voluptuous feminine figure.

Two days later the winds had diminished enough in strength for _Nymeria_ to leave Stonedance and sail north along Massey’s Hook, turning westward into the Gullet when the ship had tacked far enough from Sharp Point not to worry about the westerly wind pushing them into the lee shore. Arya stood at her usual spot at the bow with her glass trained on the islands to the north at the mouth of Blackwater Bay. Captain Saan strolled up and informed her that she was looking at Driftmark and Dragonstone, both settled long ago by Valerians. “Dragonstone was the ancestral home of the Targaryens, milady,” he explained, “and when Valeria was destroyed, House Targaryen chose not to return to Essos and maintain the domination of the Valerian Freehold, but to conquer Westeros and build King’s Landing as their new capital.” 

“So that is how our trouble with dragons all began,” Arya murmured. 

\-------------------

King’s Landing

After a week of sailing to the west in Blackwater Bay, _Nymeria_ finally approached King’s Landing and the entire crew crowded the railing or worked at their stations, watching the walls of the city grow larger within their view. They pointed out landmarks like the impressive sight of the ruddy towers of the Red Keep or the narrow spires of the Great Sept of Baelor to each other and discussed what they planned to do when setting foot in the port. The city had been in ruins when they had left three years earlier, but from what they could see, much repair had been accomplished whilst they were abroad. Blackwater Bay narrowed in width and became the Blackwater Rush and suddenly the piers of the harbor were alongside the starboard bow. _Nymeria’s_ direwolf figurehead was spotted by the stevedores on the dock and they immediately raised a shout of recognition as a crowd gathered on the quay, loudly cheering, whistling, and waving their arms as the carrack drew closer. Word of the proximity of the intrepid voyagers had reached the harbor a moon earlier and _Nymeria’s_ arrival was eagerly anticipated. 

The adventurer herself, the force behind the bold undertaking, was at the bow and felt very self-conscious by all the attention. The cries of the witnesses increased in volume when they recognized Arya and she heard them calling out, “Wolf Princess!”, “Arya the Adventurer!”, “Dawn Bringer!”, and “Lady Arya!”. A few rascally dock workers impertinently shouted, “Blow us a kiss, milady!” and winked at her when she turned in surprise to look at them. Eager hands on the wharf grabbed the mooring lines as the sailors cast them from the deck and the cheering became louder, if that was possible. The members of the watch lucky enough to be granted the first shore leave were pounded on the back as they descended to the waterfront, and men that were personally recognized were greeted with loud huzzahs. The vocal demands for Arya increased and she smiled and waved a few times before going below decks, unnerved by the spectacle. During her years as a novice Faceless Man she had been taught to be invisible and the ill at ease young woman was unsure how to respond to all the inquisitive eyes. She was not sure that she was going to be able to deal with a more public life and now felt a pang of regret for returning. Reflecting in her quiet cabin, she squared her shoulders and considered, _The people I love dearly are here, and that is why I came back! I am a Stark shall not be distressed because strangers crave my attention!_ The water dancer inhaled a deep breath and slowly let it out, reciting the familiar words, “Calm as still water.”

\-------------------

With a heavy heart, Arya glanced around her bare cabin one last time. It had been her home for the previous three years. Her maps were neatly rolled and stacked on the chart table in the center of the room, next to the captain’s logbook where the details of _Nymeria’s_ voyage had been recorded. She fingered the new chart that she had created with the help of Captain Saan, speculating on the positions of the lands that they had explored beyond the Sunset Sea in relationship to Westeros and Essos. The captain had told her that he would have a skilled cartographer transform it into a colorful, illustrated painting for her to keep as a remembrance of her unique voyage. She sighed as she sat on the comfortable cushions of the long window seat of the stern and recalled the sunrises that had awakened her on many a morn. She patted the linen sheets of her ‘luxurious’ berth, narrower than a typical landsman’s bed, but far more comfortable than the simple hammocks of the common seamen. A small smile passed over her face as she reflected, _My berth may have been restricted, but there was enough room for Lanna and me to entertain each other._

Her personal goods had been packed into two sturdy sea chests which were already on their way to the Red Keep, transported by several strong crewmen. The contents had evoked many memories in the girl’s mind as she organized her possessions: Silk robes from Dorne, seashells, bits of coral, and coconuts from the tropical islands, caffe and cocoalate from Americos, a gold earring and a cutlass from the pirate attack, small tokens from Lanna, a quirt presented by the cute _gocho_ from the grasslands of Americos and another from the camel drover of Qarth who had so admired her figure, and finally, packets of dried-out honeyfingers and hair dyes from Tyrosh.

She fingered one token with affection, a delicate gold necklace with a small golden locket in the shape of a heart, containing a lock of Lanna’s golden hair. Her friend had requested the same of her before Arya departed Americos, and the adventurer reflected that the lovers had tangible remembrances of each other. She smiled as she handled a few wooden toys pressed into her hands by the sweet children, Myria and Myles.

The modest Northern girl blushed as she neatly refolded the slave girl’s silk outfit from Leng Ma, embellished with the accompanying jewelry acquired on Lys, recalling how her sailors had stared at her with admiration when they saw her attired in the revealing garb, especially when one teat had fallen free from the halter top to the delight of all the male eyes. But she also grinned whilst thinking, _I must find time to practice the arts of exotic and belly dancing._ A wicked thought crossed her mind, _I would love to see Jon’s face if I demonstrated the dances for him!_ With one final sigh, she turned towards the companionway and made her way to the deck of the ship, determined not to be undone by nostalgia.

As Arya prepared to descend the gangplank and make her way to the Red Keep, the duty crewmen became emotion as they realized that she was departing from their lives. After three years of voyaging, they had all become attached to their liege lady and were loath to see her leave. Save for the faint crow’s feet around her eyes from squinting into the sun, and her tan complexion from sun and windburn, the years abroad had been kind to the Northern girl, adding a few inches of height and more womanly curves to her figure. The men had observed a subdued, restless, and moody teenager blossom into a cheerful and more contented maiden of twenty and one namedays, and when dressed in a silk gown with her long wavy chestnut loose in the breeze, she was as stunningly beautiful as might be expected of a fairy-tale princess. 

Most of the crewmen said their farewells on the deck, as they had much work to do returning the ship in a proper state before enjoying the pleasures of the capitol city. Renwick and Hargrove had tears running down their weather-beaten faces, behaving as though they were parting with a family member forever. Arya allowed her two close companions to firmly embrace her torso and kiss her on both cheeks as they sniffled and softly muttered, “I shall miss you so much, milady.” 

Arya’s eyes became damp and she admitted that she found it hard to leave them too. Taking a deep breath and recovering her composure, the warrior woman firmly stated, “Renwick, Hargrove, I assure you that we _shall_ meet again, for I am not done with adventuring. I still intend to sail to the land of the Wildlings to visit my dear brother Jon someday and hope that you both will join me.” The old sailors wiped their faces and responded that they intended to stay with _Nymeria,_ as the carrack was taking up the occupation of transporting cargo between Pentos and King’s Landing under the direction of First Mate Randyll. Apparently Ser Davos Seaworth had been busy arranging for the ship and crew to remain employed and profitable following the wolf princess’ voyage. 

The adventurer’s final leave-taking was with Captain Saan as they descended _Nymeria’s_ gangplank together. Arya cast her gaze upwards towards the tall towers of the Red Keep and sighed, “Well, I best go see how my kingly brother fares. I expect that he will try to keep me a prisoner in his palace as long as possible.”

Arya’s faithful navigator informed his former employer that he was bound for the banking district to visit with his financial advisor. The captain had not expected to return from the risky voyage alive, but had many investments and business partners, so he had employed a monetary agent to oversee his wealth whilst he was abroad. Now he had the opportunity to find out how his fortune had fared during his absence. Captain Saan smiled conspiratorially at Arya, “Ser Davos told me that he would meet me here in King’s Landing and we will ride to the Stormlands together. I am eager to meet young Lord Baratheon.” Then he gathered the wolf princess in a gentle but secure embrace and kissed her on both cheeks, gushing sentimentally, “Sailing around the world with you, milady, has been the most significant thing I have done in a long and eventful life. I thank you for giving me the opportunity to share your unique adventure. You are an amazing young woman, princess, and I love you as the daughter I never had. You will always be part of my life.”

Arya observed that the old smuggler’s eyes were glistening with unshed tears and she shook her own head to scatter her own emotions as she muttered, “Stop it, Salladhar, or you will have both of us sobbing like injured children.”

“I do not think that would be a bad thing,” the captain replied ruefully. 

The girl slowly broke from his embrace and patted his arm, “We will most likely meet up again at Storm’s End fairly soon.” As Salladhar caught her eyes and grinned, she continued sharply, “And no more insinuations!” 

\-------------------

Arya decided to walk to the Red Keep, which was not far from the docks, and observe for herself how the city had fared during her absence. She left the harbor and entered through the River Gate, commonly called the Mud Gate, crossed the lively marketplace of Fishmonger’s Square, and strode along Muddy Way. Armed and dangerous, the warrior woman felt confident, and many of the inhabitants stared at her in wonder. One or two may have recognized her because they would turn to a companion with excited comments as they pointed in her direction. Her hand instinctively gripped Needle’s hilt when she became aware that at times several men found her too interesting, but fortunately no one decided to follow her or draw closer. Cat’s Faceless Man’s senses tingled when she occasionally felt the presence of a cutpurse, but the wily thieves must have also sensed that the woman attired as a soldier was not an easy mark and did not approach at any time. They would surely have regretted accosting the trained assassin.

The Tyroshi _bravo_ Jokin had not lied; as the smell of human waste which had so riled her senses when she first came to King’s Landing with her lord father was distinctively absent. Arya remembered the extensive damage war and dragonfire had caused the helpless city when Queen Cersei was defeated. Now the streets were cleared and cleaned of the dead bodies following Daenerys’ conquest and many buildings were repaired. She turned right at The Hook where the elevation began to rise steeply as she climbed Aegon’s High Hill and finally arrived at the main entrance to the Red Keep. 

The warrior woman was somehow recognized by the guards at the gate and let into the castle with smiles and, “Welcome back, Princess Arya.” The soldiers were unfamiliar to her but apparently she was no longer traveling incognito. 

Unable to contain her curiosity, the wolf girl asked, “How did you know my identity?”

One guard smiled and replied, “King Bran personally sent word earlier that you were coming and described your likely appearance. In fact, princess, he awaits you in his solar as we speak.” Arya shook her head, thinking, _The three-eyed raven knows too much!_

Arya was ushered to the king’s solar and rushed to Bran’s side when she saw her younger brother in his wheeled chair, bending down to kiss his cheek and smiling as she hugged him, involuntarily gushing, “Tis so good to see you again, brother!” 

Bran studied her features closely and neutrally replied, “You have changed, dear sister. You appear older and more contented now, not at all as grim as you were when you left. Apparently your voyage has been beneficial.” With a more personal tone he added, “I thought about you all the time, Arya.” The greenseer was not ready to tell her yet that he could sense that she was still alive as she traveled so far from home. 

“At first my thoughts did not return to Westeros, but after a while I realized that I missed my family. I almost felt some regret for leaving so abruptly. As I experienced the many interesting things on my journey I yearned to share the tales with you, just like when we were children at Winterfell, telling each other fanciful stories of the wildlings.”

“You have had many exciting adventures, sister, and I am eager to hear about them.” He paused for a moment and continued, implying his talent, “I knew you would return.”

“I had reason to return, Bran. I was determined to reunite once again with you, Sansa, and Jon.” 

Arya felt uncomfortable, as though she had a premonition, when Bran eyed her intently again, “Your smith has not taken a bride. His vassals are troubled _and_ baffled.” Now his mouth formed a slight smile, “I wonder as to his motivations.”

She sighed, having wondered if Bran would bring up that subject. “I know, Ser Davos kept my captain as informed as possible about Gendry’s disposition. Apparently the stubborn bull was convinced that I would return.” 

Still placid, the young king queried, “What do you plan to do?” 

Arya sighed again, “Well I suppose that I have no choice but to ride to Storm’s End eventually. I shall have need of a horse.” 

Bran finally smiled, “Easily provided.” 

With that awkward conversation over, Arya turned to other matters, “I suppose we should send a raven to Winterfell.”

The greenseer almost wore a smug expression as he replied, “I did so as I sensed _Nymeria_ rounding Sharp Point. Sansa will attempt to get a message to Jon as he cannot be reached by raven.”

Arya nodded and followed up with a nagging thought, “Bran, could you _see_ me whilst I was on the other side of the world?”

The young king shook his head and responded, “Nae, but I could sense that you still lived. At times I felt your thirst and hunger, fear, excitement, and danger.” Then he smiled and softly added, “At certain times I also sensed the emotions of love and pleasure.”

The wolf girl blushed furiously and muttered, “That confession makes me feel most uncomfortable, Bran. I do not like my privacy invaded.” 

Furrowing his brows thoughtfully, Bran slowly replied, “My visions are not really personal, sister. It is more like reading a book. My emotions are separate from the act of _seeing,_ and I find that I rarely become emotional at all anymore.” 

Arya seemed to shudder as she retorted, “That does not make me feel less violated.”

Arya spent two weeks in King’s Landing, avoiding unfamiliar courtiers and behaving awkwardly at formal meals, responding tersely to inquiries until she was finally left alone. She was annoyed to discover that it was impossible to avoid Tyrion Lannister. The Hand of the King was foremost a scholar and full of curiosity about her voyage, pestering her with questions whenever they met, and urging her to record her recollections. Sometimes Arya relented and reluctantly described some of her adventures and Tyrion once wistfully blurted out, “Princess, I wish that I had the nerve to explore the unknown as you have.” The impatient girl rolled her eyes and appeared bored with the conversation. 

Eventually Tyrion found that questioning _Nymeria’s_ crewmen in dockside taverns after lubricating their tongues with ale was far more productive for tale gathering. The ribald Imp was also delighted to hear stories that were far bawdier than he imagined the prim ice princess would ever have deigned to relate to him. Tyrion clandestinely documented the tales he gathered, fascinated by the secretive Stark beauty that modestly dressed as though she were a man. Pondering in his solar, his imagination would take flight and he ruminated, _I would give a small fortune to have seen the wolf princess attired as a slave girl or in Dornish silks with her lovely hair loose around her shoulders._ He sighed internally and also thought, _If what I heard is true, that only the sullen blacksmith turned Lord of Storm’s End can soften the maiden’s heart, I envy him more than the wealthiest man in the world!_ After hearing the stories, when Tyrion met Arya in the Red Keep, he tried his best not to exhibit his lustful feelings, but the wolf girl eyed him suspiciously anyway.

When not speaking with Bran in his solar or the Godswood, Arya spent most of her time sparring in the training yard with the master at arms, telling herself that she needed to keep her skills sharp. Her perceptive brother pointed out, “Sister, mayhaps you are unconsciously avoiding your planned trip to Storm’s End.” 

Arya solemnly nodded in agreement, “I know what Gendry expects of me if I go to him, and I am not sure if I am ready to take up the life of a Lady of a Great House of Westeros.” 

“I understand your reluctance, sister,” Bran replied seriously, “but you already _are_ a Lady of Westeros and can wield power if you are determined enough.” He stopped, caught her eyes, and smiled, “And I _know_ that you are one determined woman!” He paused again and chuckled, something she had rarely seen Bran do since her return, “Mayhaps you will be happier than you anticipate.”

Now the intrepid adventurer allowed her to consider, _Aye, mayhaps life with Gendry will be enjoyable. We shall see._ Deciding to put an end to her moping, Arya shook her head to clear her thoughts and ventured, “Enough about me! Tell me what it is like being king.”

Bran’s visage darkened a bit and he groused, “The most demanding complaints in King’s Landing I heard when I became king concerned the persistent smell of shit and the lack of bread! Tyrion and I have had to work as hard as we can to fix the sewage and water supply problem. We have also made deals with the Reach and Crownlands to provide enough flour on a regular basis to feed the populace. And of course every kingdom and vassal has their own problems and demands. It is a wonder that I can sleep at night!” 

Arya laughed and Bran scowled because it appeared as though she found his troubles to be humorous. Shaking her head, she japed, “Who would have thought that the powerful Three-Eyed Raven’s biggest challenges would be real-life problems in the present and not focusing on the past nor future.”

Resembling the serious younger brother Arya remembered from Winterfell, Bran opined, “I take my responsibilities to heart, sister. I thank the old gods that Tyrion Lannister has proved to be so helpful for our tasks. He is practical as well smart.”

Arya was grateful that her brother had such a good Hand of the King, but she could not find any respect within herself for the dwarf. She replied sourly, “I suppose if you keep that man well-supplied with wine and whores, you can depend on his talents.” 

The master of arms was otherwise occupied and Arya was listlessly swinging a bastard sword at a quintain, ignoring the ache in her arms, when Captain Saan arrived in the company of Ser Davos. She greeted both men with affection, realizing that she was chafing for some action, and smiled widely when they told her that they would escort her to Storm’s End. Ser Davos was most pleased to see her and there was relief in his eyes as he confessed, “At first I was afraid that I had sent a bold maiden to certain death.”

The warrior woman laughed heartily and her braid swayed, “And I was taught to say to Death, ‘Not today!’” 

Now Ser Davos gripped her by her forearms and assessed her up and down. With wonder in his voice as he intoned, “Gods be good, girl! A child has grown into a beautiful young woman. I am glad that your voyage has proved to be successful, princess. For a long time I feared that the ship might be lost at sea and was delighted when Captain Saan’s message arrived from Qarth.” Arya beamed at him until she heard his final words, “The lad will be overjoyed.” 

Arya bit her lower lip and replied doubtfully, even a bit embarrassed, “Will he really? I treated Gendry like shit before I left.” 

Without any hesitation, Ser Davos returned a broad smile, “I do not think that he dwells on _that_ fact!”

Captain Saan returned the discussion to practical matters, “Storm’s End is 480 miles from King’s Landing, and after so long at sea I doubt that you and I are prepared for the hard riding that will require almost three weeks of traveling. Ser Davos has arranged for sufficient mounts for the three of us plus a supply horse to carry the food, sleeping furs, and oats for all the horses. We leave on the morrow, after we break our fast.” 

The wolf princess impulsively invited, “Come to dinner tonight. I should spend the evening with my brother before leaving and I know that he would enjoy talking to you.”

King Bran watched the party depart and his last words to his sister as she mounted her horse was, “Send a raven when you arrive.” 

Arya laughed, “I suspect you will know anyway, Raven!” Settling into her saddle, Arya’s thoughts turned to Storm’s End and the unsuspecting smith toiling there, wondering, _Well, we shall see how he **really** feels about me now!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, we have come full circle in this story and are back at Chapter One. However we are not done. I have already mentioned the birth of Lyarra, and there will be more babes. Plus, we must venture out to Winterfell to see Sansa at some point and also find Jon. Who knows? Mayhaps _Nymeria_ has more adventures to be shared. Stay tuned and thanks for reading and following.


End file.
